And It Stoned Me
by kinole009x
Summary: It's 1918. Bella and Edward are best friends. The Spanish Influenza suddenly hits and Bella is left all alone. Things get strange when a few depresseing months later, Edward shows up again. Only this time, he has a secret: he's the living dead.
1. Prologue: Edward Masen

Prologue: Edward Masen

_Chicago, Illinois: 1918_

I remember the first time I met Edward Masen.

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon in January and I had set out to run a quick errand for my father, Charlie Swan. Not that I minded, since there wasn't much to do in Chicago, Illinois on a January afternoon anyway. It didn't help matters that I was new and didn't know anyone yet. The local school was still on holiday break and classes didn't resume for another few days.

I had moved to Chicago from Arizona. I loved my mother, Renee, and already missed her, but I knew I was doing the right thing by moving. Her new husband, Phil, played baseball and he traveled a lot. I knew if I were to stay home, she would also have to stay and would hardly ever see him. Moving to Chicago to bond with Charlie in the mean time didn't sound like a bad idea. In fact, I almost welcomed a change.

This was how I found myself making the short commute to the general store and back to get a newspaper, so that Charlie could find out what was in store for the Chicago Cubs and what was going on in the baseball world. This was a world that I could care less about but if it wasted a half hour, then that was fine by me.

I pulled my coat tighter around myself as I walked from the general store and over the unfamiliar foot bridge, completely immersed in my own thoughts. I should have been paying attention, due to my awful coordination and luck. This would explain why I was completely caught off guard when I suddenly slipped.

My heart jumped into my throat and I tried to physically prepare myself in a second for what I knew was coming. I would probably land flat on my back and break it. Even if my fall turned out not to be that dramatic I would at least hurt something. I was vaguely aware and dismayed as Charlie's newspaper went flying out of my hand.

I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the dreadful impact. But it never came. Shocked, I opened my eyes and saw that I was in the arms of a complete stranger.

And it was a male. I instantly became breathless and more awkward than usual. I had never had much luck with boys in Arizona, and I expected Chicago wouldn't be that much different.

The stranger gently set me on my feet and handed me the newspaper, which was still in perfect condition. I tried not to gape at him. He was not only quick, having saved both the newspaper _and_ me; he was also beautiful.

He was much taller than I was, with untamed bronze hair and striking green eyes, and he looked about my age. He had a friendly, crooked smile, which he was directing towards me at that very moment.

"Thank you," I muttered, embarrassed, trying to get my act together. I found it difficult to look him in the eye.

He nodded in response. "Ice," he said good-naturedly, "is not especially kind in these parts of Chicago. I haven't seen you around before – are you new?"

I nodded. "I just moved here a week ago." I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with him, although I had only known him for literally thirty seconds.

The stranger stuck his hand out. "I'm Edward Masen."

I shook his warm, strong hand quickly. "Bella Swan."

Edward smiled again. "Well Bella," he said. "Could I walk you home?"

I hesitated. I didn't know this boy and I wasn't exactly social or on the lookout for new friends.

"There might be more ice," he added. "And I'm sure that newspaper has an important destination."

Yes, Charlie's kitchen table. Not seeing any harm, I nodded. I allowed him to walk me the short distance home, as a very light snow began to fall.

That was the very beginning of a long and heart-breaking, yet beautiful, journey. I didn't know at that moment that this Edward was to become my best friend.

And I especially didn't know what he was to become.

* * *

**A/N: This is basically a re-post of the prologue I posted last night. At the beginning, I had put that the story took place in 1901, when it really should say 1918. I realized this was a major type-o (I wasn't even thinking!) and since I'm technologically challenged and can't figure out how to edit my document and have revised mistakes show up in the already posted story, I decided to just post this again. But other than changing the date, the prologue is exactly the same - nothing has been changed.**

**But anyway, I had orginally put that although I'm in the middle of writing another fanfic, this idea just came to me and I really wanted to see where I could go with it. I hope it seems realistic because I'm not an expert on the twentieth century. Any feedback is really appreciated =)**


	2. Chapter 1: Just Like Starting Over

_Chapter 1: (Just Like) Starting Over_

I didn't see Edward again for another few days. I mentioned him to Charlie in passing, hoping I could casually get a little bit of information.

And Charlie did know a little bit about the Masen family. They were a fairly well off family who had lived in Chicago as long as he could remember. Edward's father, Edward Masen Sr., was a successful lawyer and his mother, Elizabeth Masen, was a beautiful and kind woman. Edward was an only child. They led a peaceful (and uneventful) existence since they were courteous to everyone and no scandal was attached to their name.

I tried to tell myself that it was not a big deal, but I couldn't help but feel curious and wonder if I'd see him again.

I did see him again and in the most unexpected of places: my front doorstep on the first day of the new semester of school. I remember being so nervous about school that I was shaking, and that I forgot those nerves when I saw him standing there. He had given me that crooked smile and asked if I'd like some company on the way to school. I told him I would, since I wasn't even completely sure where the school was.

I learned that he was my age, in the same grade as me, and in a few of my classes. I also met two girls, Angela and Jessica, who were in the rest of my classes. I really hadn't been looking for best friends, but they made me feel almost like I belonged.

Over the month of January I settled into my surroundings. Edward walked me to school every morning and walked me home every afternoon. I'd hang out with Angela, Jessica, or both at school and during some of the evenings. I felt like I was in pretty good hands. But other than that, I generally kept to myself.

I suppose it wouldn't be an understatement to say that I was a complete recluse. I had been that way in Arizona too; I liked to keep to myself. I know this worried my mother at times and so when I volunteered to move to Chicago, she had been excited and positive that I would make many new friends. She said that city kids were "more interesting."

But what my mother didn't always realize was that I wasn't like her. She was a completely free spirit through and through, and I was just…Bella. I was perfectly happy sitting in the house all day with a book, more so than I would be spending the day being social and adventurous.

And that's what I found myself doing a lot at Charlie's in the first few weeks. I had brought a large box of books with me because I wasn't really sure if Charlie even owned a book. I had planned to look for a library or a book store at some point, but I was putting it off, simply so I'd have something to look forward to.

Angela told me one day that her father had quite a library and invited me over for the afternoon. That afternoon was fun but I will never be able to think about it without thinking about that night. That was the night I experienced my first actual disaster since arriving in Chicago.

Night had fallen by the time I left Angela's. I was deep in thought, making my way through the dark streets, not really anticipating any danger. I suppose I was just content in my own little world, thinking about how I had made a few friends and how unbelievably…nice they were. I was beginning to think I didn't mind city life so much.

Until I realized that I had no idea where I was.

Getting to Angela's had been simple enough: she had walked me there. But now that it was dark out, I realized I didn't really know how to get home from this part of the city. Looking behind me, I saw that I didn't recognize anything from the way I had just come and that I was probably too far away to find my way back to Angela's house.

Trying not to panic, I decided that the best option would be to keep walking. I was bound to come upon a police station or a store where I could ask directions. I mentally kicked myself for my stupidity.

At that moment, I heard a low whistle and the sound of approaching footsteps echoing off the street pavement. I instantly thought of the horror stories I had heard about rapists, burglars, and murderers, and quickened my pace.

"Hey boys, now what have we here?" I heard from behind me.

"Hey miss!" Another one called. "Hey miss, are you lost?"

"Maybe we can put you in the right direction," yet another slurred, and the others laughed. I realized they were all drunk. It made sense that they would be; it was Friday night, after all.

I hoped that if I kept walking and ignoring them, they'd get tired of stalking me and leave. But I knew that wasn't the case when I felt a large hand grab my shoulder. Instantly, I spun around and did something that I probably shouldn't have.

I punched the man in the gut, before pushing him away from me.

"Don't _touch_ me," I bit out, as I saw the man stumble backwards, one of his friends catching him.

I could see now that there were four of them. They all looked older than me, but not that much older. I guessed that they were maybe in their early twenties.

"Oh, feisty," the fourth man said with a sick grin. But the one I had punched was clearly angry that I had stood up for myself, and he lunged at me.

I couldn't move in time. Before I knew it, the man had pushed me against the brick wall of the nearest building, his hand clutching my throat. I reasoned through my sheer terror that I shouldn't fight or I'd probably aggravate them more. One wrong move and he could choke me to death.

I felt sick as he took out a pocket knife. I watched as it gleamed in the moonlight before he put it to my throat, the icy blade poking my skin uncomfortably.

"Now," the man said in a low voice. His breath was hot on my face and it smelt strongly of alcohol. "You can come with us and have a bit of fun, or you can die. Pick and choose, girly."

I couldn't speak. What would I say? What could I do? I could be nothing but a victim.

But at that moment, someone was tearing him off of me. I felt a cool breeze hit my neck as it was freed from his sweaty hand and I sank to the ground, feeling a terrible pain in my back from where I had hit the wall.

But I couldn't stay on the ground for long, because a familiar voice was yelling my name.

"Run, Bella! Run!"

I stared in shock as I saw Edward, his green eyes blazing, facing the now three drunk, shocked men. I saw that he had thrown the man with the knife against the opposite wall, where he had slumped unconsciously to the ground. I had heard the sickening crack of bones.

I didn't want to leave Edward alone; how could he fight when it was three to one? But he urged me with his eyes to run for safety and I saw a figure running from the shadows to help him. And I tore off.

I once again realized that I didn't know how to get home, but I ran hard anyway. I ran until I found a familiar landmark – the school, and was able to stumble my way home. I threw open the door and collapsed onto the floor in a gasping heap.

"Bella?" I heard Charlie's gruff voice from the kitchen. "Is that you?"

"Yes Dad!" I gasped, trying to control my voice but failing miserably. I didn't think I'd ever run so fast in my entire life – I hadn't ever needed to.

He appeared in the hallway, concern lining his features. But once he saw me, his concern turned to panic, and he was instantly on his knees by my side.

"Bella? Bella!" He said, patting my back urgently as I started to cough. "What happened?"

"A gang!" I rasped out. "A gang….drunk…following me…Edward…saved me…"

Charlie stared at me for a moment, taking in what I was saying, before he looked darkly out the door into the night. I then saw his panicked expression turn to a furious one. He scooped me up effortlessly into his arms and carried me to the small parlor. He placed me on the sofa and gave me a look that clearly said…don't move.

I went limp on the couch, too tired and scared to move anyway. Charlie came back a moment later with a glass of water. He handed it to me. "Bells, I need to go to the station and report this. We're going to find those scoundrels. Nobody messes with Charlie Swan's daughter." For a moment I could have sworn that he puffed out his chest with pride, before going back to the kitchen and returning.

He put my old, battered copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ on the couch next to me, and backed away. I fought to suppress a smile. Charlie was awkward when he tried to be thoughtful.

Next, he proceeded to pull down all the shades. "I'm locking the door behind me. I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't answer the door for anyone!" And with that, he closed the door.

Sighing, I reached for the book and tried not to feel paralyzed at the thought of being by myself. I reminded myself that the door was locked and that Edward had taken care of _them_.

I drank the glass of water Charlie had brought me as my heart rate returned to normal, and curled up, getting more comfortable. I opened the book to where I had left off. The spine of the book was worn under my hand – I had already read this book many times.

I jumped and my book went flying when there was a knock on the door. I froze, immediately assuming the worst: the gang had come back. Or maybe it was a different gang out to get me. Why was everyone out to get me?

I immediately pushed those thoughts away, since they would only drive me insane. Charlie didn't need to come home to see me hiding under the bed. Not that I would even hide under the bed anyway – the kitchen table seemed more safe.

I got up slowly and crept over to the front window. I debated whether I should risk looking outside. What if the person (or people) at the door saw me peeking out? Then they would surely know I was home.

And besides, who would be knocking on our door at this time anyway?

I tried to tell myself to just go sit back down. Charlie had said not to open the door for anyone. He clearly meant that whoever was knocking at the door at this time of night was up to no good.

I was about to head to the kitchen and crawl under the table, when my curiosity overpowered me. I tip toed to the window and peeked out.

Edward was standing at the door. Relieved, I rushed to the door and opened it.

Edward look a bit disheveled but other than that, there wasn't a scratch on him. His beautiful green eyes were overflowing with concern. "Bella, are you all right?" he asked immediately, as soon as I had opened the door.

"I'm fine," I told him and motioned for him to come in. I closed the door and locked it right away.

Now that Edward knew I was definitely okay, he looked positively furious. His eyes were bright as he started to pace the small hallway.

"Those filthy mongrels!" he growled. "I swear Bella, if I hadn't walked away when I did…"

I didn't want him to be angry and especially not on my account. "Edward, it's fine…"

"It's _not_ fine! What if they had…hurt you, Bella? I don't even know what I'd do…" He was fuming and I couldn't help but feel slightly flattered that he cared so much. I had never had a guy care so much.

"Those monsters _will_ burn in hell," Edward said bitterly, "especially if they ever try and hurt you again."

I said nothing. I was angry too, but my anger didn't hold the same burning fire as Edward's did.

Finally, Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, before dropping his hand. "I'm glad you're all right, Bella," he said quietly, moving towards the door.

"Edward, wait," I said suddenly, feeling all my calm slipping away as he slipped towards the door. He turned, his hand on the door knob.

"Um," I fidgeted with my hands. "Could you stay with me until Charlie comes home? I mean, you don't have to…" I trailed off, feeling a bit foolish.

Edward nodded instantly. "I'll stay."

We sat on the couch, Edward expressing his frustrations at the drunk men and me expressing my fears about the drunk men. I learned that the figure who had rushed out of the shadows to help him had been his father.

Finally, when we could say no more about the situation, we talked about other things, like music, family, and life. And some time after that, we sat in comfortable silence.

Exhaustion began to take over and I couldn't keep my eyes open. I began to drift off.

Charlie didn't come home until around midnight. I heard the door open and opened my eyes immediately. My face turned red when I realized that my head had fallen onto Edward's shoulder. But he hadn't tried to move me. He seemed just as comfortable as I was. I muttered a quick apology as Charlie walked into the room.

I could tell he was a bit surprised to see Edward sitting on the couch with me, but he overcame this surprise when Edward stood up to leave. I felt satisfied when Charlie stuck his hand out and Edward shook it. "Thank you for keeping my daughter safe," he said gruffly. Edward nodded, a small smile lighting up his features momentarily.

I walked Edward to the door. He opened it and the cool air hit my face. "Edward?"

He turned.

"Thank you so much for saving me tonight," I said sincerly. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there."

He grinned. "Your welcome, Bella." And with that, he disappeared into the night.

I closed the door and leaned against it, fighting the butterflies that I felt in my stomach. When I had come to Chicago, I hadn't expected to find such a good friend, let alone someone who cared about me.

I was Bella Swan and I wasn't meant to find love. I had always believed that.

But something about Edward made me seriously doubt that for the first time in my life.


	3. Chapter 2: Valentine's Day & Ice Fishing

_Chapter 2: Valentine's Day and Ice Fishing_

I never understood the point of Valentine's Day.

I mean, did people really need that one specific day a year in which you tell your significant other that you love them, and buy them things? Why couldn't that be any day of the year?

I knew Charlie and I were going to be perfect company for this "holiday", since I was sure he shared my view on things. But he probably just loathed the holiday. My mother had left him long ago and I don't think he did much dating after that.

So you can probably imagine my shock when Raymond McAllister asked me to the movies that day in our English class.

I was really caught off guard. I wanted to say quite bluntly _of course not. I don't date!_ But he seemed sincere enough and I didn't want to be rude. I felt someone kick me hard in the shin under my desk. I looked over to see Jessica, trying to appear casual. She mouthed, _Yes!_

"Um…" I stuttered, feeling my stomach churning dangerously.

I heard a soft flutter and looked down at the floor immediately. There was a piece of notebook paper on the floor next to my desk and Jessica's handwriting in big, bold letters: **SAY YES.**

"Sure," I found myself saying, instantly regretting it.

Raymond flashed me a smile, told me where he'd meet me, and took off. I snatched the notebook paper off of the floor, crumpled it up, and threw it at her.

"Oh Bella!" Jessica breathed as the bell rang and we gathered our things. "How romantic!"

"I don't find it very romantic," I muttered, wondering what I had gotten myself into. I had been planning on spending Valentine's Day on the couch with Charlie. We could mope together.

"Come over later," Jessica urged. "I know the perfect thing you can wear and I can do you face."

"What's wrong with my face?" I asked as we walked into the bustling hallway.

"Nothing," Jessica replied. "But it's tradition. Date equals make-over."

Angela had joined us at that moment, and a few minutes later we ran into Edward. Jessica immediately filled them in on my date. I felt my face turn beet red.

"Bella!" Angela said, taking my hand. "That's so exciting!"

I could have sworn I saw something flash through Edward's eyes for a second, but then he smiled crookedly. "Bella, that's great! Maybe this will change your view on Valentine's Day."

How did he know that? I didn't think I'd told him my feelings on Valentine's Day.

That afternoon, Edward walked me home. When approached my doorstep and before he left, he told me sincerely that he hoped I would have a great time that night. And to have a happy Valentine 's Day.

Jessica lived only a few streets away and so it was a lot easier to find her house than it was to find Angela's. I let her and Angela dress me up and "do" my face. Although Raymond McAllister wasn't quite my type; he was handsome, athletic, and well known. But I couldn't help but feel excited and nervous. It was true I wasn't that into dating but maybe I'd have fun. Maybe we could be good friends. Maybe something more, although I doubted it. I began to feel slightly honored that he had asked me and grateful that my new friends were so supportive.

I found myself sitting on a bench outside the movie theater at exactly seven that evening. I watched couples walk by, holding hands or linking arms, and felt even more nervous. I began to doubt myself…why did Raymond McAllister take an interest in me of all people?

Eight o'clock came and my anxiety grew. The Charlie Chaplin movie we were supposed to see had started a half an hour ago. Where was he?

Nine o'clock. I began to wonder if I had come to the right theater…maybe he was at the one down at the other end of the city?

And by nine thirty, I accepted the fact that I had been stood up.

I knew this date had sounded too good to be true.

I couldn't sit there any longer, alone and looking pathetic. Embarrassed, I wrapped my arms around myself and began to walk home.

This did nothing for my self-esteem. I was already awkward enough and already had a tough enough time around guys like Raymond McAllister. I didn't need disappointment like this to further convince me of what I already knew.

I tried to assure myself that it wasn't a big deal. I didn't even like this kid and I hadn't wanted to go out in the first place. I should be relieved.

But for some reason, I found no relief in the fact that I had sat by myself for two and a half hours outside a theater on the so-called most romantic day of the year. I should have left after the first hour, so why hadn't I?

Because I was hopeless.

This was how my love life was meant to be. This is how the rest of my life would be. Getting asked out on Valentine's Day and then being abandoned. He had probably found a more appealing female. That was all very well, but it was depressing.

I shed a few tears for myself. I could throw a pity party for a few minutes, and then I'd go on with my life. But what would I tell my friends? I couldn't lie; I was a terrible liar. And I didn't want to face Raymond McAllister tomorrow; what if it had been a prank and I had fallen for it? What if that had been his intention all along?

Tomorrow seemed like a good day to stay home sick from school.

I felt the make-up Jessica had applied begin to run warmly down my face with my teares. I hoped I didn't run into anybody I knew. I could see their reaction now. _There's the new girl, Bella Swan. Walking the streets all alone on St. Valentine's Day. Make-up running, all dressed up and no place to go. No guy in sight. Always knew she was a bit odd…_

A sudden wave of homesickness washed over me. I missed my mother and I missed my little comfort zone in Arizona. So far in Chicago, I had gotten attacked by four drunken men and gotten stood up by the heart throb of my high school.

As I came upon my street and saw my doorstep in sight, I wiped my eyes. There was no need to concern Charlie.

But I was surprised to see a lone figure sitting on my doorstep.

It was Edward.

I was surprised and I was equally dismayed. It's not that I didn't want to see Edward.

It's just that I didn't want Edward to see _me _like…_this_.

He smiled when he saw me approaching, and this smile faded when he saw my appearance.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, but I avoided eye contact. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it; I wanted to pretend it had never happened.

"It doesn't even…matter," I muttered angrily, tightening my arms around myself, feeling Edward's gaze on me.

"Of course it does," he said, getting to his feet. "Tell me about it."

The sincerity in his voice made me want to spill everything. But I didn't want Edward to know what had happened.

"I'm just a fool," I said dismissively, as if that were the full explanation. I brought my fingers to my forehead and applied pressure. It helped ease the pain that had begun to throb there.

"Bella, you're not," he said firmly and his tone made me finally look up and into his piercing green eyes. "Don't ever think that." I had never met someone who had such unwavering faith in me, especially someone I had only known for a month and a half.

I supposed that I owed him an explanation. He had obviously waited for me this late to see how my date had gone. He had been excited for me.

"He didn't come," I whispered, feeling hot tears filling my eyes.

Edward was silent for a minute, before his tone softened. "Oh Bella," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

I shook my head and sat on the doorstep, staring at the cobblestones set in the sidewalk, trying to become numb to the feeling of rejection. I felt Edward sit next to me.

"It's not a big deal," I reassured him, dismayed at how upset I sounded. "It just kind of…hurt a bit."

Edward nodded, letting me know he understood. He didn't have to say anything; I was grateful just to have his company.

"I hate Valentine's Day," I mumbled.

Edward chuckled. "It _is _kind of a pointless holiday, I'll give you that. But if you find someone special enough to spend it with, it gives it a bit more meaning."

I didn't think I'd ever find that. "Well when your date forgets about you, it kind of ruins it," I said bitterly. I pressed my fists against my eyes, willing the tears not to fall.

I didn't know why I was all tearful anyway. I was _Bella_, dating and boys did not bother me. Rejection was not a big deal. At least, I had always tried to tell myself that.

I realized then that Edward had put an arm around me. I leaned into him and buried my head in his shoulder. He brought his other arm around and held me.

"He's the fool, Bella," he told me quietly.

"It's just a little bit embarrassing," I admitted through my tears. "When you care enough to try something new and that other someone can cast you aside so easily."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Edward said firmly. "McAllister missed the chance to get to know someone really great tonight."

"Really?" I asked doubtfully.

"Really."

I thought of how Edward would probably be waiting for me at this same doorstep tomorrow morning, to walk me to school. I reasoned that I should probably save him the trip and tell him now.

"Edward, I'm not going to school tomorrow," I said. He looked down at me and I felt like I owed him some kind of explanation.

"I don't feel well," It wasn't a complete lie.

"Bella, you should really go to school," he said quietly. "If you avoid him, then it's like he's winning."

"That's all right," I mumbled.

"And besides, I'll be there with you," he said and just those seven little words made all the difference.

And he was there the next morning, my own personal support system.

When we got to school, I didn't even realize I was holding my breath, and it took a nudge from Edward for me to let it out.

There was the usual mix of students in the front of the school, procrastinating until the very final bell when they would have to finally go to class. I wanted to get in the school as quickly as possible. I felt Edward very close to me and it made me feel better.

And that's when I heard the voice of Raymond McAllister.

"Bella! Hey, Bella!"

I turned slowly, feeling my face turn red. Edward turned with me.

Raymond McAllister had his arm slung around some girl, one who was inarguably more decent that I was. He flashed me a smile.

"I'm sorry about last night, Bella," he said and he sounded far from apologetic. "Something came up."

The girl giggled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward shoot him a death glare. Sometimes words were just not necessary.

"You know, _Raymond_," I said icily. "That's all right. There _was_ someone _worthy_ there in the end."

I then turned and walked into the school, Edward behind me.

When we got into the hallway, we both looked at each other. And burst out laughing.

"He's such a prick, Bella," Edward said as we walked further into the school.

I nodded. That exchange shouldn't have been funny, but thanks to Edward, it was.

We stopped outside my English classroom, where I knew McAllister would arrive any moment.

"Don't let him get to you," Edward said seriously. "They're idiocy can't hurt you. They're not worth it."

I smiled. "Thanks Edward," I said. "You made a potentially devastating situation into a very minor deal."

He reached over and for a moment I thought he was going to touch my face. But instead, he playfully, but gently, tugged on my hair. "Enjoy your day," he said with a grin, before disappearing into the throng of students.

And I think I can say that I honestly did enjoy my day after that.

February faded and March took its place. The snow showed no sign of melting any time soon and the air was as cold as ever. It was almost mid-March by this time and Edward had asked me if I wanted to go ice fishing with him and his dad one Saturday. I wasn't particularly into ice-fishing, or fishing in general, but I agreed. I liked spending time with Edward and I was curious to meet his father.

That morning, Edward and his father picked me up in his father's Regal Model H. Not many people owned cars, especially not in a city like Chicago, and Edward had told me his father only owned one and only used it when completely necessary. I had been in a car maybe a handful of times and I enjoyed myself each time.

Edward slipped out of the passenger seat and opened the door for me. I got into the back and Mr. Masen gave me a cheery hello. Edward climbed in next to me and we were on our way to Lake Chicago

I continuously asked Edward if it was safe to ice fish in mid March when it was almost spring, and Edward assured me that it was. It was cold enough this winter that spring seemed like quite a ways away and the ice wouldn't melt.

We made our way onto the ice, which seemed thick enough. I saw that there were other people on the ice today doing the same thing. Mr. Masen used an ice saw to cut a circular hole into the ice and handed us two poles that he had fashioned.

At first I was concerned, sure that with my luck the sun would shine brightly, the ice would thin out, and I would fall in. But when that did not happen, I began to relax. I sat on a blanket in between Edward and Mr. Masen, enjoying the fresh air.

And it was actually fun. Mr. Masen caught three fish, I caught one, and we both laughed at Edward, who didn't catch any.

After awhile, Mr. Masen saw an old friend and went to catch up, leaving Edward and I alone.

"Have you read the newspaper lately?" Edward asked me.

I shook my head. I didn't really read the newspaper. I knew there was a war going on, and had been going on since I was thirteen. I didn't like to read about it though. I found out about it anyway, from talk on the street. I was extremely grateful that Charlie was too old to be drafted.

"Supposedly there is a flu going around," Edward told me. "They've seen traces of it beginning in Kansas, at a military outpost, and I read that it's spreading in other parts of the world too."

My eyes widened in alarm and Edward was quick to reassure me.

"I'm sure it won't come around here," he said.

He looked down at that moment and saw my cold, red hands. He took them in his own and I felt the butterflies return. After awhile, my hands were warm again.

Edward had thought that the flu wouldn't come around and I had believed him. We didn't know that five months from then, we would be proven wrong.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews thus far! I'm working hard to make sure this story seems believable. I hope it doesn't seem too rushed...I'm really just trying to focus on the main points in Edward and Bella's early relationship; the ones that bring them closer together and eventually, best friends. Unfortunately, I don't have the patience to go way into everything that could possibly be said or happen. But remember, every encounter is significant!**

**Reviews are amazing. =)**


	4. Chapter 3:Tunnels & Peace Demonstrations

_Chapter 3: Tunnels and Peace Demonstrations_

April came, bringing showers and dark, dreary days with it. It made me long for warm, sunny Arizona but I really couldn't complain. Chicago had to turn spring-like eventually, I told myself.

The one day that it didn't rain, Edward decided we should go on an adventure.

We were walking from school to my house one uneventful Thursday afternoon, when he suggested that we go explore a tunnel under the Chicago River.

"I don't think that's…safe," I said timidly, as we turned onto my street.

"Bella," Edward said with a soft chuckle. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"What's down there anyway?" I asked. Although it didn't sound safe, it sounded intriguing.

"They say it's almost like an underground city," Edward explained, turning my mental picture of dirty, bug-infested underground holes into a sparkling, amazing metropolis of buildings and networks.

I looked at him suspiciously and he laughed.

"Bella, I promise, I wouldn't just lead you off on some crazy, reckless adventure with no purpose," Edward assured me, his green eyes dancing. "This is significant."

"All right," I said finally. "When do we go?"

"I'll meet you here at five-thirty," Edward said, excitement clear in his tone, and with one more mischievous grin, he was off.

I let myself into the house, wondering what Edward was up to.

And sure enough, at five-thirty, he was waiting for me. We walked for quite a few minutes, until we reached the outskirts of the city, where the Chicago River was located. Just as I opened my mouth to ask him where the entrance of the tunnel was, he motioned to me to follow him down a narrow hill beside the bridge.

We reached the bottom and there I saw a wide, dark hole in the side of the stone wall of the bridge. Suddenly, I didn't feel so adventurous anymore. But I still followed Edward, trying to ignore the little voice in the back of my head that was telling me to turn back.

We were about to step inside the entrance when Edward suddenly stopped me. "Tell me what you're afraid of," he said, his eyes finding mine and holding my gaze.

Was I really being that obvious? I decided to tell him outright what I was afraid. "Rats, spiders, the river flooding the tunnel, aliens, ghosts, murderers…"

I could tell he was suppressing a smile.

"I can go on with my list," I added.

"We don't have to do this," he said, suddenly serious. "I wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to do."

"No, I want to," I said quickly. "I just want to know that it's safe."

"I promise you, it's safe," Edward said, and for good measure, held out his hand. I took it, automatically feeling better. We stepped in, the smell of earth surrounding me.

We weren't ten steps into the tunnel when we saw a light flash outside the tunnel opening and a deep, gruff voice yelling, "Who's down there?"

My mouth fell open and Edward whispered, "Run!" I followed him, the soft tip-taping of our steps against the dirt floor ringing in my ears. I heard the distant shouts of what I guessed to be a policeman from the tunnel entrance. "Hello? Who goes there?"

We rounded a corner and Edward pulled me into a tiny nook that was embedded into wall. We heard the soft footsteps of the policeman entering the tunnel, his light shining this way and that, hitting nothing but grey, stone wall. As he got closer to us, Edward pulled me closer to him.

It was probably the entirely wrong moment to notice how sweet he smelled or to wonder how I even knew this, since I was pretty sure I was holding my breath.

After a few moments, we heard the steps and the light fading away. I instantly felt Edward relax and I sighed in relief.

Then I realized what had just happened and turned to Edward. I punched him in the arm. "Are you out of your mind?"

He was laughing silently. "The perfect start to our adventure," he said as he pulled out a flash light and starting to wander deeper into the tunnel. Reluctantly, I followed.

"That was the hardest part, Bella," he assured me. "From here on, it's smooth sailing."

As we walked deeper into the tunnel, Edward gave me a little bit of history on what we were walking in.

"This is the Lasalle Street tunnel," he told me, as we walked the winding path. "It was built around 1869. During the fire of 1871, it was used as an escape route. The river reversed in 1900 and they had to close the tunnel down for awhile. It re-opened around 1911, for electric streetcar service."

I was about to ask him where the electric streetcars were, when we came to what appeared to be a door. Edward carefully pushed it open, and I saw that we had entered a completely different part of the tunnel. This was a huge, open space and looked recently cared for, unlike the part we had just came from. It looked almost like an underground station, with platforms and the like.

"Now it is built out of dry dock and steel plate," Edward continued, as we began to walk down the spacious corridor. It was cold here; almost too cold it seemed for April. We walked in silence for awhile, taking everything in.

The history of these tunnels began to fascinate me in a way. Although they weren't too old, they were old enough, built in an entirely different century. I tried to envision the people who had seen this tunnel. I envisioned the men who carved it out, all hard workers who would go home each evening to a small family and a comfortable home. I envisioned the people running for their lives, escaping the great fire, using the tunnel as a refuge. I imagined the person who had decided to re-open this tunnel, and who had re-modeled it accordingly.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice that Edward had put a hand on my arm to stop me. I looked over at him and saw him listening to something intently. I listened, too, and heard what he heard.

The large space was narrowing now and we saw a bobbing light approaching from within. We also heard voices and furthermore, it was more than one voice. Edward and I stood where we were, gazing into the dark tunnel that the narrower strip became, waiting. I wasn't sure what Edward was thinking, but I was sure we had been caught.

So I was a bit taken aback when three boys about our age appeared out of the blackness, stopping when they saw us. I didn't think I'd ever seen them before and I wondered if they even lived in Chicago. All three of them were clearly Native American. The boy at the front of the little group looked at me and suddenly his eyes widened in recognition. "Bella!"

I had no idea who they were, but I smiled all the same. "Hello."

"You probably don't remember me," the boy said, his eyes sparkling. "My dad is your dad's best friend. We all live on a reservation near the coast."

Instantly, I remembered. Charlie's best friend was Billy Black, who lived on a reservation near the coast, and so this could only be one person.

"Jacob Black!" I exclaimed, and now that he was sure I recognized him, he gathered me up in a big hug.

"Wow," I said. "It's so good to see you. I don't think I've seen you since we were kids."

Jacob laughed. "You can say that again." One of his friends, the shorter and muscular one, cleared his voice loudly and Jacob rolled his eyes good-naturedly. He pointed to him and said, "These are my friends, Quil Ateara" and pointing to the taller, skinnier one, "and Embry Call."

"Nice to meet you," I said, grinning as they both did awkward bows, then glared at each other for taking the other's ideas.

"This is Edward Masen," I told them, and they all exchanged polite hellos.

"Well, we should probably be on our way," Jacob told me. "But you and Charlie should visit the reservation. You're welcome anytime."

"Definitely," I said. "Thanks."

Jacob pulled me into another bear hug, before he and his friends went on their way. Edward and I continued our plight, entering the dark tunnel corridor.

I thought about how interesting that encounter had been. I hadn't seen Jacob in years, not since we were both younger. And furthermore, we hadn't questioned each other on why we were in a dark tunnel at night anyway. I smiled as I thought that it probably hadn't appeared strange to either one of us.

This part of the tunnel was a lot longer than the first part and I literally began looking for "the light at the end of the tunnel." It seemed like it would never end.

The tunnel then dropped a little bit and became even narrower, to the point where we had to get on our hands and knees. This made me nervous but I didn't question it. To tell the truth, I was more fascinated than afraid.

Edward stopped then, and shone his flash light on the wall. He sat back and leaned against the wall behind us and I did the same. Even leaning back, we were still close to the wall he was looking at. It was that much of a tight squeeze.

The wall was now a soft slab of rock, and there were various initials and names carved out on it. It made me wonder how many people came down here for fun.

Edward scooted down a little bit and I followed him. He once again shone the light on the wall and searched. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for.

"Bella!" he said, clearly excited. "Look at this!"

He was pointing to a set of names that were carved into the stone. I looked and became equally excited once I saw the names:

_Edward Masen + Elizabeth Masen_

"Your parents!" I whispered. "Is this why you came down here?"

Edward nodded. "They told me once that they'd carved their names somewhere in the Lasalle Street tunnel, shortly after they were married. It must have been the late 1800s or so, probably not long after it was built."

"That's amazing," I murmured. "It's like they left a little piece of themselves carved out in history."

"It is," Edward agreed, pulling out a small pocket knife and lifting it to the wall. There was a small space next to his parents' names and he carved into it:

_Edward Masen, Jr._

He then handed the knife to me. "Do you want to carve yourself into history?" he asked with a crooked grin.

I grinned back and took the knife, carving next to his name:

_Bella Swan_

We both sat back and admired our work.

"How did you know where to find it?" I asked him.

"They remembered exactly where it was," Edward replied, "and gave me directions. This is the same way they entered the tunnel and even though it was remodeled since then, it hasn't changed that much."

We sat there for awhile, just talking and looking at the names. I then understood why Edward had said this little adventure had been significant. He had wanted to show me his parents' names carved into the tunnel wall,; he had wanted to see for himself that they were there. And I understood completely. If my parents' names had been carved into a wall somewhere, I would want to see them too.

We made our way out of the tunnel sometime after that, back into the dark corridor-like one, back into the spacious modern one, and back through the dirt one. As we stepped out and made our way back up the hill, Edward laughed. "See?" he said. "There were no rats, spiders, murderers, or anything of the sort. And the tunnel did not flood."

I laughed with him. "You were right," I admitted.

And at that moment I was very glad I had gone with him on his adventure. It had been worth it.

April passed by and before we knew it, it was May. The rain and dreariness had disappeared and the warm air and sunshine had finally arrived. May brought nice weather but it also brought my first disagreement with Edward.

News of the war had not been scarce and there had been more casualties showing up in the newspapers. I knew it affected people and I knew it was a big deal. It was a world war.

One Friday, after school had ended, I was walking with Angela and Jessica to the usual place where I met Edward. Jessica was telling us how there was to be an anti-war peace demonstration on the other side of the city the next day and how she and a few people were planning on going. She asked us if we wanted to go. Angela had already made plans for the weekend, but I was very interested. Ever since my little adventure into the Lasalle Street tunnel with Edward, I had been a bit more up for trying new things. We were just near enough to Edward that he heard when I said yes.

"Bella," he said quietly, as Jessica and Angela walked away. "I don't think it's a good idea to go to that anti-war demonstration."

I looked at him in surprise. "Why not?" I asked.

"It's not safe," he told me, as we began the walk to my house. "It may seem like a worthy cause, but people get excited. You don't know what will happen there."

I couldn't fathom what he was saying. "I don't think it's that big of a deal," I said. "What could possibly happen? It's a _peace_ demonstration, Edward."

"What if they get the police involved?" Edward said in a low voice. "What if people get hurt?"

"You don't know that that'll happen," I replied.

Edward had stopped now and I stopped as well, and faced him.

"Bella, please don't go tomorrow," he pleaded. "If something happened to you…" He trailed off, folding his arms and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Edward, nothing is going to happen," I tried to convince him.

"You don't know that!"

"You're starting to frighten me Edward," I told him angrily. "You're making it seem like this demonstration is a death-sentence."

"It very well could be," Edward said bitterly, dropping his arms.

I recoiled at his tone, before beginning to walk again. Edward fell into step beside me. We were silent for a few moments, before he spoke.

"So you're not going?"

I was the one to stop this time. "Edward!"

"You don't know what it's like, Bella!" he said. "You just moved here, you don't know how cruel people can be. You've never been to one of these before."

"And you have?" I retorted.

He dropped his gaze.

"That's a _no_!" I exclaimed, taking it to be a no.

"Bella, please!"

"Why are you making me out to be someone who is so sheltered from the world?" I asked him. "I have to get out and experience things."

"I know but this is _not_ the way to do it!" Edward told me. "Nothing good will come from this. Bella, please, I'm begging you, just consider what I'm saying."

I was drained. I glared at him, telling him with my eyes not to follow me, and started to walk away.

"Bella!" he called after me.

I turned around, but kept walking backwards. "You win!" I shouted at him. "I'm not going! Are you happy?" I turned around and left him standing on the corner.

It was the first day in months that I had walked home from school by myself.

Once I reached my house, I let myself in and slammed the door. I saw that Charlie was already home from work and was sitting in the parlor, but I stomped right past it.

"Bella?" I heard him call. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," I shouted angrily as I made my way up the stairs. "I'm just going to read a book!" What a terrible excuse for my hurriedness. I knew Charlie was probably grumbling about teenage daughters and accepting it for what it was.

The next day was Saturday, the day of the demonstration. I got a hold of Jessica to tell her the bad news and then I sulked around the house. Charlie was at work so I really had no need to go downstairs, except to eat. I lay on my bed, tracing the patterns on my blanket and daydreaming. I couldn't concentrate long enough to read a book. I tried not to think how everyone was at the demonstration at that very moment.

Why had I even let Edward talk me into not going? I should have been defiant, I should have gone anyway. But something – and I wasn't sure what – made me agree to not go.

But it made me so incredibly angry. I didn't think it was that big a deal and I didn't like how Edward had kept pushing it. He made it seemed like I was some sort of little, immature kid who couldn't handle something like that. It made him seem a little bit controlling and I didn't want to see him in that way.

Usually, I would see him on Saturdays but he didn't come around. I didn't blame him. And I didn't want him around.

I had moved down to sulk on the couch when Charlie came home from work that evening. He looked more worn out than usual, as he took off his boots and sat in the armchair near the window.

"Long day at work, Dad?" I asked as he leaned back in the chair.

"You can say that again, Bells," he said. "That anti-war demonstration on the other side of the city really got out of hand. I wasn't there but some of the officers from our station went down to help the state police. There was a mob and a pretty serious stampede. Some people were arrested and many people were seriously injured."

I was frozen in my seat as I listened to this. Edward's warnings resurfaced.

"In fact," Charlie went on. "Your friend Jessica was there. She and her group of friends were hurt pretty badly; I'd say a few of them are lucky to be alive."

My eyes widened and I felt an intense surge of guilt and gratefulness. The sudden mix of emotions made me dizzy. I was on my feet immediately and rushing for the door, overwhelmed. "I'll be back in a little bit, Dad!" I called to him before I could see his bewildered expression.

Edward didn't live that far away from me. I found myself running, stumbling at times, to get to his house. All I could think about was how unreasonable I had been the day before and how his concern had literally saved me. I had thought he was trying to be all-knowing, but he had been completely right. I shouldn't have gone and it was a good thing I didn't.

I finally arrived at his house and just as I was about to run up the steps, the front door opened. I saw Edward standing there and he didn't look surprised to see me. Tears were blurring my vision, although I didn't really know why. He opened his arms and I ran into them.

"Edward!" I said breathlessly as I felt his arms close around me. "Edward, I'm so, so sorry. Jessica and the others…" I trailed off, at a sudden loss for words.

"I know," he murmured. "I heard. And it's all right."

"No, it's not," I said bitterly. "Edward, I was _awful_. I shouldn't have been so stubborn about it."

"But you still listened and you still didn't go," he pointed out.

"But I was so difficult!" I protested.

"I really don't blame you," Edward said gently. "Because who am I to tell you what you can and cannot do? But I'm really glad you didn't go because at least you're safe."

"Thank you," I whispered, "for saving me, yet again. I could have been like them right now."

We stayed like that for awhile on his doorstep and he held me until I stopped trembling. Again, I was surprised at how emotional I felt. It made me think of superstitious things like déjà vu, fate, and guardian angels. Things you couldn't really explain.

I pulled away after awhile and he spoke.

"Bella, I _have_ been to a demonstration like that," he told me quietly. "I was silent yesterday because I didn't want you to know it."

I let this sink in, remembering my response yesterday. I had taken his silence to mean no. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I shouldn't have been so quick to judge."

"No, its fine," he quickly assured me, his green eyes intense. "But I had a similar experience. I went to one right when the war began in 1914, when I was thirteen years old. Nothing happened to me, but I saw what happened to other people. I just wanted to protect you from that."

I understood completely now. We were now sitting on his step, talking things through.

"But I probably should have just told you that right from the start," Edward admitted, staring straight ahead. "I shouldn't have been so dramatic."

I shook my head. "I can't believe it was that…big a deal," I said, remembering how I had kept thinking that it _wasn't_ a big deal.

We were silent for a few more moments, before Edward reached over and took my hand. "Bella?" he said softly.

"Yes?"

"I'm so glad that you're safe," he said, his eyes holding mine. "And that you're here with me right now, instead of in a hospital or worse."

"Me too," I whispered, squeezing his hand.

And I truly was. That was the third time Edward had saved me from pain: first, when he had saved me from slipping on the ice; second, from the drunken men; and now, from this.

I only wished that I could have saved him from the fate that awaited him.

* * *

**A/N: Flashlights were invented in 1896! So they're appropriate for the story =) At first I was like, flashlights, pfft, those weren't invented yet. But they were indeed.**

**This is pretty much the longest chapter I've ever written. And as you can see, we're getting closer to Sept. 1918. We all know what happens then.**

**Thank you for the reviews! Every review means a lot to me. =)**


	5. Chapter 4: Grow Old With Me

_Chapter 4: Grow Old With Me_

June 20th was Edward's 17th birthday.

It was a Thursday and after school, Edward and I walked to the edge of the city and through a patch of woods. I was surprised when after hiking for awhile (though it was more like after stumbling and falling over for awhile), we came upon a wide, open meadow, surrounded by forest except for the small lake that was at the opposite end.

"Wow!" I muttered to myself as I took it all in. Edward was grinning and I knew this must be a favorite place of his. He took my hand and led me over to the lake and as it always did when he touched me, my heart skipped a beat.

Once I'd found out when his birthday was, I had racked my brain about what to get him. For some reason, my mind had wandered back to April, when we had carved our names into the wall of the tunnel. I remembered holding his pocketknife in my hand and marveling at how old it was. And it was not family-heirloom-antique old. It was rusting, falling apart, old.

And that had been my answer. I'd gotten him a new pocket knife - a smooth, silver one, with all kinds of gadgets. I had his name engraved on it, and piano keys decorating the exterior. It was perfect: a present that was useful _and _meaningful. When I had nervously presented it to him that morning, his smile had lit up his entire face. He had swept me up in a gigantic hug and whispered sincerely in my ear, "Thank you so much Bella."

And now we lay in the vast grass that was spread throughout the meadow, soaking in the sun and just enjoying each other's company. At one point, I turned my head to him.

"So what's it like to be a year older?" I asked with a tiny grin.

He chuckled. "It doesn't feel that much different," he told me. "I still feel very much the same."

I listened as a hummingbird sang in the distance. "You're officially older than I am," I observed. I was still sixteen.

"Well in a few months, you'll be older too," Edward pointed out.

I made a dismayed noise. "Don't remind me."

Edward laughed. "What do you have against growing older?"

I turned my head into the sweet smelling grass as I considered his question. "Everything."

"There must be specifics," Edward pressed.

I was silent for a moment before I spoke, allowing all of my jumbled thoughts on growing older to organize themselves so I could tell Edward why I opposed it so. "Things just get so much more complicated as you get older," I explained. "And when you're young, even if something bad happens, you can still hang on to some kind of hope. You still believe, you still have your imagination. You believe in miracles." I hadn't meant to sound so hopeless and I had never voiced this to anyone before.

"Just because you get old doesn't mean you have to let go of that," Edward told me quietly. "Some adults still choose to believe that way, although I agree with you that most forget it."

I was staring up at the sky, considering something else, when he gently poked me in the arm and asked, "What is it?"

"I'm also afraid of literally growing old," I admitted, "…growing elderly."

"Why?" Edward asked me.

"Because it brings death," I whispered, sitting up and wrapping my arms around my legs.

"Bella," Edward murmured.

"And it brings aches, pains, loss of hearing and eyesight, horrible things like Alzheimer's and arthritis and loneliness…"

"But what about all the wonderful things it brings?" Edward asked, sitting up as well, capturing my eyes with his calm, green ones.

"Like what?" I asked doubtfully.

"Like wisdom, memories, grandchildren, retirement, relaxation, and time with your significant other," he said, his eyes continuing to pierce me with their intensity and honesty.

I hadn't thought of that.

"_Come, grow old with me, the best is yet to be_," Edward quoted softly.

"Robert Browning," I said with a small smile.

Edward nodded. We were quiet again for awhile, each contemplating our own thoughts and opinions. I could see Edward's side of the argument and I admitted he was right in a way, but my own biased perception was still clouding my vision. The soft, June breeze surrounded me, calming me and urging me to forget.

"I _want_ to grow old," Edward suddenly told me in a low voice, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I smiled. "We have two completely different perceptions then."

"I bet within the course of a few years I can change yours," he told me, suddenly serious again.

I didn't know what to say to that because I didn't completely understand what he meant. Was he saying he could change my views on becoming old? Surely he couldn't do so by talking to me about it for years, he would have to show me…

As soon as the thought entered my head, I pushed it away. Edward was my best friend and I tried not to think of any possible romantic direction. Romance sometimes ruined friendships if it did not work out and it wasn't like Edward was interested in that. I was not even completely interested in that, although sometimes I did wonder why I got nervous being so close to him or why his touch felt like electricity…

So what I did do was smile and say, "We'll see about that." Content with this answer, Edward lay back down in the grass and gazed up into the light blue sky. I lay back down as well, and we spent the rest of the afternoon pointing out clouds that looked like animals and objects and even one peculiar cloud that looked kind of like Charlie. We talked more and laughed and at the end of the day, Edward told me he could not have had a better birthday.

July fourth approached not long after and I look back on that day with the fondest of memories. It was what I would call, for the most part, a perfect day. I went down to the reservation with Charlie and celebrated with Jacob Black and his family. We came back for the evening and while Charlie went to visit some fellow friends and coworkers, I went to the lake with Edward and his parents, who were there to meet some friends. We ate, visited, and conversed.

Afterwards that night, we sat on the steps of Edward's porch and just talked and laughed at the harmless, drunk people who bumbled past. But after awhile, we saw a sad sight that would affect me for a long time.

It was not that easy to see, but through the glare of the street lamps I saw what appeared to be a soldier making his way down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He was not alone. An older gentleman who looked similar to the young man (and who I assumed to be his father) had a supportive arm around the soldier's waist, and the soldier had his arm around the man's neck. They made the journey down the sidewalk together and I saw that the soldier was missing his left leg.

I watched silently as they stopped in front of a house on the other end of the street and the door opened and light flooded down the front steps and onto the soldier and his father. A beautiful young woman who looked only a few years older than me appeared in the doorway immediately and when she saw who stood at the bottom of her steps, she covered her mouth with her hands. The older gentleman quietly stepped away into the shadows and the soldier balanced on his one leg, holding out his arms. The woman rushed down the steps, her long blonde hair cascading behind her, and collapsed into the soldier's arms, sobbing. The soldier held her and I could have sworn I saw tears in his father's eyes.

I didn't know these people or their story, but I could only imagine. He was obviously her boyfriend or fiancé and he had gone off to fight in the war, and had come back with one leg. The relief and despair in her eyes were overwhelming; the relief that he was alive and the despair at what he had suffered through. I tried to imagine a love so strong like that, that it would transcend time, wars, and boundaries. I couldn't imagine how that woman could cope, not seeing her love for that long, not even knowing if he was alive. It was truly amazing what some people could function through. And the scene before my eyes was bittersweet in every way and even more significant because it was the fourth of July: Independence Day.

I hadn't even realized that a tear was streaming down my own face, until Edward gently took my hand and helped me up. He opened his front door and led me into the parlor, where an elegant piano stood in the corner. He wiped my tear away with his thumb, before leading me over to the piano and sitting me down on the bench. He sat next to me and laid his long fingers on the keys.

Edward began to play a melody so hauntingly beautiful that I instantly forgot the scene outside. I watched in silent awe as his fingers flowed gracefully over the keys, quickly and constantly, not making one error and pausing for nothing. It came so natural to him, like breathing. My heart rode out each note, each intense wave of music, as it surrounded me and captured me in its melodic grasp.

When Edward was done and I was still staring at the keys, he got up and stood behind me. He leaned over me and taking my hands, gently placed them on the keys. He put both of his hands over mine, and slightly lacing his fingers through mine, began to play the same, sweet melody, his hands moving mine over the keys, helping me play his melody with his assistance, making me feel how it felt to play something so beautiful.

I knew his motive. He was trying to distract me from the sad scene I had just witnessed and I had to admit, it worked. Before I knew it, I was completely transfixed by his music and the aching sadness in my gut had disappeared. Afterwards, we sat in his backyard, amongst the green grass, and watched as fireworks lit up the night sky, and I felt grateful that we were both there, in perfect health and safety.

* * *

**A/N: I apologize that its taken quite awhile to get another chapter up, but it was the end of school plus finals week, which left me with absolutely no time. But the semester is over now which means unlimited time for writing, yay! Reviews are amazing. =)**


	6. Chapter 5: Canoes and Comets

_Chapter 5: Canoes and Comets_

Before long, it grew hot and muggy and long afternoons in the house became unbearable. One quiet and uneventful Tuesday, Jacob came up for a visit and he, Edward, and I went to Lake Chicago for the afternoon.

We were sitting in the sand, watching the people on the other side splash each other or float lazily on the perimeter. It was at that moment that Jacob hopped up excitedly and disappeared into the woods. Edward looked at me with a raised eyebrow and I shrugged. I had no idea what Jacob had up his sleeve.

After a minute or two, he returned, lugging a large wooden object out of the woods behind him. I squinted a bit and saw what appeared to be a canoe in his hands.

"Jacob," I said as he dragged the canoe past us, a large grin on his face. "Where did you get that?"

"In the woods," he answered, as Edward and I scrambled up and followed him to the edge of the lake.

"I know _that_," I said, suppressing an eye roll. "But where did it come from?"

"A few weeks ago I came here with Quil and Embry," Jacob explained as he pushed his treasure into the cool, rippling water. "And we made this. It was too large to take back to the reservation, so we stored it up in the woods. I had completely forgotten about it!" He waded into the water, holding the canoe and place, and nodded towards it.

We stared at him.

"Ladies first!" he said, his grin growing wider, if that was even possible.

I laughed nervously. "Jake, you made this. Um…" I trailed off, not wanting to insult him.

Jacob's grin disappeared for a moment, before it returned and he let out a roar of laughter. "Bella, are you saying you don't think my canoe is stable enough? That we're going to get into the middle of the lake and it's going to sink like the Titanic?"

That was exactly what I was afraid of.

"Your lack of faith in me and my canoe-building skills hurts," Jacob said with a pout, before turning to Edward. "I bet my friend Edward will stand by me though." He spread out his arm, indicating that Edward could get into the canoe at his convenience.

After a careful, amused glance at me, Edward climbed into the canoe. He sat facing me and after a few seconds, he and Jacob were grinning again, teamed up against me.

"You're both impossible!" I said, trying to appear stubborn and responsible, but I couldn't fight my own smile.

Edward held out his hand to me and Jacob nodded encouragingly. With a defeated sigh, I took Edward's hand, as Jacob helped me into the canoe. Then Jacob pushed the canoe even further into the lake and leapt into it, and I shrieked as the canoe wavered dangerously.

We floated out, with me safely sandwiched between Jacob and Edward. Once we stopped in the middle of the lake and just floated there, I stuck my foot out and dipped it into the water, closing my eyes and soaking in the sun, although I knew it would never tan my pale frame.

It was peaceful and for a long time, we didn't talk. We merely concentrated on the sensation of floating, the sounds of other people muffled in the background. After awhile, Edward began to ask Jacob questions about how he had built the canoe. I tuned them out, figuring hearing boys talk about canoes would be like hearing boys talk about cars…uninteresting.

I don't know how long we were out there in the middle of the lake, but it was a long time. After awhile, we heard a low rumbling noise and Jacob sat up, alert. "It's going to storm," he announced and pulling out the paddle, prepared to row us back to the shore.

We must have been completely wrapped up in our own little world because we were the only ones left at the lake. A light rain had begun to fall and the clouds cast a grey and dismal shadow on the lake and its surroundings.

I felt the tension in the air as Jacob's panicked strokes rocked the canoe. Edward held out his hand to take over, so that Jacob's arms could rest for a moment, and the minute that Jacob turned to hand over the paddle, the canoe tipped dangerously and I was spilt into the lake.

The cool water should have felt pleasant on a day like this, but plunging in so unexpectedly ruined the potential comfort. I immediately told myself that whatever I did, not to open my eyes. Seeing the dark, murky lake water and the never-ending pit that it was would not help my nerves in this situation.

I did open my eyes, though. It stung a bit and seeing nothing but darkness made me start to flail my arms, searching for the surface. After a few long moments, I felt a strong force, and I was against a body and floating upwards. As we broke the surface and the cool air hit me, I gasped, wanting nothing more than to get out of the water. The idea of drowning frightened me, and being in the deepest part of the lake didn't help.

I saw now that it had been Edward who had jumped in immediately after me and rescued me. Now, he hoisted me up as gently as he could and Jacob lifted me back into the canoe. We then carefully helped Edward in, careful not to tip the canoe again, and Jacob once again took over the paddling, since Edward was soaked to the skin. I saw Edward look at me out of the corner of his eye, the amused gleam never leaving it, and blushing, I looked down at my lap and said, "Thank you." He never ceased to amaze me. It was like he was my own, personal guardian angel; no matter what kind of trouble I got into, he was always there.

We reached the shore after a few minutes and ran to the woods, Jacob and Edward dragging the canoe through the sand behind them as the rain began to come down harder. Once we were under the branches of the forest, Jacob set the canoe up behind us and we huddled together under it, sheltering ourselves from the rain.

I sat in between my two friends, each with a comforting arm around me; Jacob's warm, dry arm and Edward's cool, wet arm. I couldn't help but smile a little bit as we watched the rain come down in sheets, disturbing the calm waters of the lake and making the tan sand a muddy disaster. A clap of thunder rang out, causing me to jump, and both arms of my friends to tighten protectively around me.

When the storm finally began to let up, Jacob stored his canoe safely back where he had found it, and we made our way back to the Model T that Edward had borrowed from his father. I climbed into the backseat and Jacob slid into the passenger seat, with Edward securely behind the wheel.

I lay in the backseat of the Model T and drifted to sleep as I heard Edward and Jacob talking quietly in the front seat. I was completely content as I dreamed of canoes floating lazily among the clouds.

At the end of the month, I found myself walking the path to the general store to get a newspaper for Charlie, just like I had back in January, the day I had met Edward. Wanting to kill a bit of time, I sat on the bench outside the general store after I had purchased the paper, and began to flip through it. Sports did not interest me but I figured I'd search for some news on the war. It was getting increasingly harder to ignore.

At that moment, Dr. Carlisle Cullen rounded the corner of the general store. I glanced up quickly and he stopped at the door and gave me a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, Miss Swan," he said kindly.

"Hello, Dr. Cullen," I replied, returning his smile.

Carlisle Cullen was a wonder, to say the least. He was well known throughout the town and Charlie knew him and had introduced us at one point. I saw him here and there around the town and we always exchanged greetings. And each time I saw him, I was struck by how beautiful he was. I don't think handsome would be enough of a word to describe him. But he was beautiful in a strange way, in a way like no one else was. His hair was blonde and he was pale, even more so than I was; a ghostly, smooth white. His eyes were a color I had never seen on another human; they were an interesting butterscotch color. I wasn't sure how old he was, but he was most definitely in his twenties and he was good at his profession.

I was tugged out of my trance by his smooth voice. "Anything good in there?" he asked, nodding to the paper in my hands.

I shook my head. "Not particularly," I told him and at that moment, Edward rounded the corner.

Carlisle offered him a smile and nodded his head. "Hello, Edward."

Edward stopped next to me and stuck out his hand, which Carlisle shook. "Hello, Dr. Cullen."

After Carlisle had disappeared into the general store, Edward sat next to me, peering over my shoulder to look at the paper. "Did you see that?" he asked me, nodding to a spot on the page.

I peered at the heading, which I had not noticed before. I scanned the article quickly, feeling my stomach tighten into a little ball. "They might lower the draft age to 18 years?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the page.

I felt Edward nod. "That is what they are saying."

"But that would mean…" I trailed off, not even wanting to think about the possibility of my best friend going to fight in the war.

Edward must have sensed my discomfort because he gently took the newspaper out of my hands and folded it up. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"No," I answered, still distracted, as we got up and began the walk back to my house.

"I want to show you something," he said and before I could open my mouth to ask what, he changed the subject.

That evening, I waited impatiently on the steps for Edward. After a few minutes, he arrived and I jumped up to meet him halfway. He looked like he was in a rush, and he took my hand, not saying anything, and led me to our destination. He walked quickly, sometimes breaking into a run, and I clung to his hand, trying to keep up with his long strides.

Edward's destination turned out to be his house.

I furrowed my brow in confusion as he led me to the side of the building, where a small fire escape ladder led up to the roof.

"Do you trust me?" He asked with a small smile, his eyes serious.

I was a bit nervous about venturing up to the roof, if that was what we were doing, but I would trust him on anything. He had only rescued me countless times. I nodded quickly.

He gently positioned me in front of him.

"All you need to do is climb to the top," he whispered, "but be careful. I'll be right behind you and I'll catch you if you fall."

I took a deep breath and put my hands on the cold, black metal. I didn't know how Edward trusted me to do this, since I was the unluckiest and most uncoordinated person imaginable. But I began the climb, relieved when I felt that the ladder was secure against the brick house, and not unstable.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I swung my leg over the ledge and walked onto the top of his roof. I hadn't ever been on top of a roof before and it was a beautiful sight. I walked to the other side and saw city lights as far as the eye could see: buildings, a few car headlights, and bridges. I felt Edward appear next to me and I voiced my appreciation.

"Edward, this is amazing," I said softly, taking it all in.

"It is," he agreed, sitting on the ground. "I come up here every once and awhile. I find it's calming and easier to think."

As I sat next to him, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of things he thought about up here.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" I asked him.

"It's part of it," Edward replied. "The other part, you'll just have to wait and see." I saw the corner of his mouth twitch into a semi-grin and knowing I wouldn't get any answers if I did question him, I sat and waited in excited silence.

After a few moments, I heard a soft whooshing sound and I looked up just in time to see a beautiful blaze making its way across the sky. It was white, with what looked like a tail, and it flew gracefully through the night, never hesitating and never stopping. I had never seen anything like it.

"Edward," I breathed.

"It's a comet," he told me, looking up at it with as much awe as I felt.

I watched it make its journey through the twinkling stars, above our city, and everything else fell away. I had no worries and no insecurities in that one moment, as I witnessed something that was not man-made, but natural and mysterious. I felt Edward gently link his arm with mine and the butterflies returned. I ignored them and concentrated on the moment, glad to be on a roof with my best friend witnessing something that didn't come around every night.

I must have fallen asleep because when I awoke, my head was on Edward's shoulder. A little bit embarrassed, I sat up, disoriented, and felt him shake with silent laughter.

"Did I miss it?" I asked him sleepily, looking up at the sky that was now so dull and black, compared to what it had been before.

"No," he told me. "It was gone shortly after it appeared and then you were out."

"For how long?" I inquired.

"Maybe twenty minutes," Edward said, getting to his feet and holding out his hands to help me up, as well. "But I better get you home before Charlie begins to worry."

Edward went down the ladder first, so that he could catch me if I fell, and I followed. Then we began the walk back to my house. I chatted to him all the way about everything and nothing so that I would not fall asleep. I still had my arm linked with his and I'm sure that if anybody saw us and didn't know us, they'd think he was leading his drunken sister home. That is what we looked like, no doubt.

He delivered me safely to my doorstep and we stood facing each other for a moment.

"Edward, that was truly wonderful," I told him and his face lit up.

"I wanted to show it to you," he explained. "It's one of those things that you don't see very often."

Suddenly, something occurred to me. "But how did you know it was coming tonight?"

He grinned, slowly backing down my steps. "Ask me again one day." And with that, he was gone.

I stood on my step, staring after him in confusion. What was that supposed to mean? I opened the door quietly and smiled to myself, realizing it was just Edward being Edward, and that one day I would ask him again and he would have the simplest answer.


	7. Chapter 6: Life Lessons

_Chapter 6: Life Lessons_

"All right, Bella, and remember, if you feel like you're going too fast, step on the brake and you'll slow down."

I nodded, as my hands tightened around the wheel of Mr. Masen's Model T. It had all come down to this final moment: my maiden voyage completely on my own, with Edward navigating in the passenger seat.

If asked, I don't think I'd be able to come up with a good reason of why I was behind the wheel of Edward's father's car. It had been a warm, August Sunday afternoon and Edward and I had been bored and contemplating doing something we had never done before. I thought we were going to go on an adventure, but what Edward had in mind was a bit different: he wanted to teach me to drive a car. He thought it would benefit me somehow in the future. I didn't think it was such a good idea and I was certain it would be a disaster, but I agreed to it, not wanting to turn down the opportunity to try something new.

It took Edward almost a week to teach me how to drive that car. That Monday, he had merely taught me a little bit about the car, showing me where the brake, gas pedal, and various other important gadgets were. I knew he could tell that I was nervous, because he decided to take two different days to teach me the various motions to driving the Model T. On Tuesday he slipped into the driver's seat and suggested that I could sit with him in the driver's seat and learn to steer the wheel, but only if I felt comfortable with both of those things: steering the wheel _and_ sitting on him. It made me feel better; Edward was always a gentleman, through and through.

I climbed onto his lap and he closed the door. It was a tight squeeze and I was so close to him. He muttered careful directions to me, and started the car. We began to go down the street at a fairly slow pace. I felt Edward's leg operating under me, using the gas pedal and the brake pedal, while I gripped the steering wheel and kept my eyes wide open.

"We're going to make a right hand turn," he told me and I nodded, letting him know I had understood. And it was honestly not that bad. I turned the wheel to the right and the car followed. We were on a new street. We practiced more turns and that concluded my lesson for the day.

On Wednesday, Edward said that he would operate the steering wheel and that I would merely work on the brake and gas pedals. Again, I got on his lap, my legs falling in between his, as I felt his arms encircle me to grab the wheel. I felt so incredibly safe, and I expected this part would be easier.

It most certainly was _not_ easier than the steering wheel. It shouldn't have been so difficult but for some reason, it was. When Edward told me to _gently_ step on the break, I stepped on too hard and we took off at an alarming speed, before I stomped on the break and we came to an abrupt stop that was so quick and jolting that it took a few moments for my stomach to catch up.

There was dead silence, before Edward said, "Not bad, not bad. Let's try again."

This time we got off to such a slow start that Edward urged me to press my foot a little harder on the gas, and we took off fast again just like the first time. I was already getting frustrated but Edward assured me that I would get it, in time. I sighed irritably. I didn't have time.

Finally, I had gotten a hold of it and I was maneuvering the car down a fairly deserted street, my foot pressed lightly on the gas pedal, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, an elderly man appeared in the street. I was so shocked that I froze and Edward immediately pushed my foot off the gas pedal with his foot, and slammed on the brakes. We came to a screeching stop, Edward holding me against him so that I wouldn't go through the windshield or crack my head open on the steering wheel. I saw that if Edward hadn't acted, I would have most certainly hit the poor man. Edward waved apologetically and with wide eyes, the old man scurried away. Then, Edward slowly pulled to the side of the street.

I had had enough. I opened the door and slipping off of Edward's lap, backed away from the car.

"Bella, what are you doing?" he asked, never taking his eyes off me as he turned off the car.

"Giving up!" I retorted, walking to the nearest bench and setting myself down on it with a huff.

He followed and sat next to me. "You can't just give up! You haven't even really given it a try."

"Yes I have!"

We sat for a few minutes, staring at the car. After awhile, Edward spoke.

"I don't know if this will help you," he said quietly. "But I had just as much trouble as you had when my father taught me to drive.

I looked over at him. "Really?" I had thought that Edward was an expert who could do no wrong.

He nodded. "It took me days to get used to it. There was a point when I almost hit a cat in the road and my father had to grab the wheel from me and get me in the other direction to avoid hitting it."

I was silent, imagining the scene playing through in my head.

Edward had stood up now and he held out his hand. "How about giving it another try?"

I took his hand and allowed him to help me up and lead me back to the car. And now that I was more alert and aware that failure was normal, I did a lot better.

Which brought us to Thursday, my maiden voyage. It felt strange to be sitting in the driver's seat alone and to not have the comfort of Edward underneath me.

I looked over at Edward, who gave me a reassuring smile. "Ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I'm going to be," I muttered. And with that, I shifted and _gently_ stepped on the gas pedal.

Holding my breath the entire way, I slowly drove down the quiet, empty street. Edward instructed me to take a right hand turn, and I successfully did so, ending up on another quiet, empty street. After a few more turns and after driving a bit further, I parked the car on the side of the street. I quickly got out of the car and admired my work. It wasn't bad at all!

Edward was laughing as he got out of the passenger side and swept me up in his arms, twirling me around in a circle. I grinned as my feet left the ground. "You did it!" he said, just as excited as I was. And it was truly an accomplishment; I had driven a car without hitting anybody and without causing harm to Edward or myself! Edward bought me ice cream to celebrate.

Around mid-August, I decided to pay a surprise visit to Charlie at the station. I had thought that summers in the city would be a little bit more eventful, but they really weren't. Edward had gone somewhere with Mr. Masen that day and I wasn't sure where everyone else was, so this was how I found myself walking up the stone steps to the Chicago police station, a small paper bag in my hand.

As soon as I stepped into the small lobby, a dog loped over to me and I grinned in recognition. "Hello Spot!" I said, kneeling down and rubbing the Germen Shepherd's head affectionately. The police dog's tail wagged enthusiastically but I noticed that there was something wrong. I had not seen Spot in quite awhile, not since when I came to Chicago more frequently when I was younger to visit Charlie. I'd spent hours at the station while Charlie worked, playing with Spot. And now, he was clearly older and he looked almost sick. I didn't think it could be old age but I made a mental note to ask Charlie. I got up off my knees and made my way to his little office.

He was bent over some papers, his lamp positioned close over the papers to offer the maximum light possible. I wandered over and set the bag on his desk. He looked up, distracted, and when he saw it was me, he put his pen down and leaned back. "Bells, what brings you to this part of town?"

"Boredom," I replied, pushing the bag towards him. I had passed the bakeshop on the way and decided to get Charlie a donut. He opened the bag and his face lit up. "Thanks Bells!"

I sat down in the chair next to him, wincing at the hard discomfort. "Is something wrong with Spot?"

"He's getting old, Bella," Charlie replied, busying himself with his donut. "Poor thing has so many health problems, including what Dr. Cullen thinks is cancer. He can hardly eat and has great difficulty going to the bathroom…" He paused for a moment, as if unsure if he should tell me the rest.

Finally, he did. "They're going to put him to sleep in a few days."

"What?" I asked immediately. "Why?" Well, I could guess why, but I didn't know what else to say.

"To keep old Spot going the way he is now would be torture," Charlie explained. "He's in pain all of the time and there is nothing anyone can do anymore."

I had stood up and began pacing Charlie's little office. "Isn't there something we can do?"

"Afraid not," Charlie answered sadly.

I looked helplessly towards the door. "But couldn't we take him in? If the police department doesn't…_want_ him anymore…"

"Bella, it's not that. Spot is just too sick to go on and doing this for him would be doing him a service. It would finally give him some peace. The department has been trying to help him for years; trying to find some sort of cure…it's not going to happen."

Awful acceptance sunk in, as I felt a devastating, sick feeling settle in my stomach. "What day are they going to do it?" I asked.

"Saturday," Charlie replied.

I nodded. It was only Wednesday now. I quickly bid Charlie farewell, before walking back out to the lobby.

Spot was sitting near the door and when I came out, his tail began wagging and he limped over to me again. I kneeled and took his furry face in my hands. I took a good look into his eyes and immediately saw what Charlie had meant. Spot was here in body, but he was barely here in spirit. His eyes were very tired and pained. His body was frail, much too frail for a dog of his size and status.

I had to do something. I said goodbye to Spot, before exiting the department as quickly as I could.

My steps rang loudly in my ears as I made my way downs the stairs and down the street. I tried to swallow the huge lump that formed into my throat, as I desperately tried to think. I couldn't prevent his death, but maybe I could think of a way to make it easier for him…

I reached the house and let myself in quickly, maneuvering my way through the kitchen and climbing the stairs towards my room. I crawled under the blankets of my bed and pulled the pillow over my head.

Memories flooded in. Every summer I would see Charlie and I would end up at the department sometimes. When I was younger, Spot had been a dog in his prime, a police dog used for difficult mysteries and dangerous operations. I had spent hours on the floor in the lobby, or in the grassy space behind the department, playing fetch with him or feeding him special treats. I had watched him head out on special missions, proud and strong, and I had taken naps with him in the late afternoons. We had explored the police department together and we had played pranks on Charlie.

I don't know how long I was under there, but after awhile I heard a soft knock on the door. I grumbled something incoherent, thinking it was Charlie. I heard the door open and felt someone sit on the side of my bed.

"Are you all right?" I heard Edward's voice, laced with concern.

"Sort of," I answered.

I felt a hand on my back. "Charlie told me about earlier," he said.

I sighed, before taking the pillow off of my head and sitting up. "It's just…so sad," I said, wringing my hands. "I mean, I keep thinking…does poor Spot know? Does he know that he only has two days to live?" I felt tears blurring my vision again.

"I honestly don't know, Bella," Edward said. "But as heartbreaking as it is, it's best for him. He won't have to suffer anymore."

"I just wish there was something…one last thing I could do for him."

"You could see if the police department would let you take Spot out on Friday," Edward suggested. "We could take him to the meadow or the lake and just…be with him."

I nodded immediately. "That's perfect, Edward!"

Edward smiled. "If we can't prevent it, at least we can make it bearable." I didn't tell him, but I loved how he used the term "we", like we were truly in this together.

I suggested the idea to Charlie that night and he said that he thought it was a good idea and that the department wouldn't have a problem with it. On Thursday, I went to the department with a bone and visited with Spot and although he couldn't eat much, I knew he appreciated it. I didn't think that his tag stopped wagging the entire time that I was there.

And finally, Friday approached. Edward and I picked up Spot from the police station and helped him into the Model T. Mr. Masen had given his permission for a dog to be in his car, considering the circumstances. Edward drove to the edge of the woods and although Spot was weak, I could tell he had a bit of fun trying to maneuver his way through the forest, just as if it were the old days again. We came upon Edward's meadow and we made our way to the small lake on the further end. We sat in the grass and Spot lied down, dipping his paw in the cool water.

For most of the afternoon, Spot was so quiet and peaceful that I almost forget that he was sick. Furthermore, I almost thought about pleading with Charlie and the department to keep him alive. Edward must have sensed what I was thinking, because he put a hand on mine, causing me to look up. His deep green eyes brought back my focus and reminded me that Spot was ill and that he needed to be set free.

Evening approached and Edward gently scooped Spot up into his arms and carried him through the forest, to the Model T, because he was so tired and too weak. I rode in the backseat with him while Edward drove, holding and petting him, wishing that the next day would never come.

But it did. I went to the department with Charlie that morning and we went to an examination room, where Dr. Cullen and a few policemen waited. Spot was lying on a cold, metal table, but there seemed to be something different about him today. The air of desperation was gone and it was like a plethora of peace surrounded him. It was if he knew that this was it and that in a matter of minutes, he would know no more pain, no more suffering.

Dr. Cullen had nodded at me when I came in, and he seemed to sense that I wanted a moment. He immediately began a conversation with the group of policemen and Charlie, distracting them. I nodded gratefully to him and went to the table.

Spot's tail began to wag feebly as I approached. I squatted and put my face close to his.

I told Spot about all of the great times we had had, and all of the wonderful memories that I would always carry with me. I admired his long and noble life and reassured him that he would no longer experience any awful pain and that he would be in the best place possible. I told him that in this place he could reunite with family and friends and go on missions all day long. I told him he would be missed and that I loved him.

Dr. Cullen approached and I stood up, hiding my face behind a curtain of long, brown hair. I felt Charlie put a hand on my shoulder and I saw Dr. Cullen pull out a needle. I quickly looked away, tears burning my lids, and took Spot's paw. "All the best," I whispered.

And then it was over. Charlie squeezed my shoulder and told me that I should go home and relax, and that he'd be home that evening. I gave Spot's paw one last squeeze, before rushing out of the examination room and the department. I walked quickly down the street, afraid that I was going to lose it at any moment. I firmly told myself that I could lose it the second I got home.

I broke into a run after a few moments, unable to keep at my fake, leisurely pace. When I saw my doorstep in sight, I felt a small pang of relief. But when I saw Edward sitting on the step, my relief vanished. So much for losing it the second I got home.

I came to a halt and breathlessly walked the rest of the way. Edward stood immediately when he saw me. I saw that he was holding a beautiful, red rose in his hands.

Wearily, I walked up the steps and met him at the top. Edward handed me the rose and it took all my composure not to crumple into a little ball at his feet. "Thank you," I whispered, taking it and looking at the ground.

"Are you all right?" he asked me and I shook my head. I was most definitely not all right.

I did not understand why I felt the way that I did. I hadn't seen Spot in quite awhile and all of a sudden, I was devastated at his death. I knew that part of it was a compassion I held for animals in general. But saying goodbye to Spot had been like saying goodbye to an old friend. And that was exactly what he was, an old friend. In my eyes, I had every reason to feel sad and to mourn.

Edward must have seen that I was dying a little inside, because he opened my front door and gently pulled me inside. I stood in the hall, drained and utterly lost. Edward led me into the parlor and over to the sofa, where he sat me down and then disappeared.

I sat, still holding onto Edward's rose, but not really seeing it. It seemed like my mind was still at the police station, with Spot's body. I stared at the floor, barely noticing as my vision began to waver and things began to get blurry.

After awhile, Edward returned and handed me a hot mug. It smelled delicious and I instantly recognized it as hot chocolate. "Thank you," I said quietly, placing his rose on the side table, underneath the lamp that had been my grandmother's. I wrapped both hands around the mug, relishing the hotness that burned my hands. I concentrated on the sensation, willing my mind to go blank.

After a good three minutes, Edward gently took the mug from me. "Bella, you're burning yourself…"

It's funny how the most remote words that have nothing to do with your situation make you break down. As soon as he said it, he broke through my trance and I could no longer hold back the tears. I dropped my head in my hot hands, and began to weep.

Edward immediately pulled me into his arms and I gratefully buried my face in his shoulder. All the emotions that I had been holding in since that Wednesday when I had heard about Spot's fate came flooding out. Edward rubbed my back soothingly and whispered words of comfort, and I felt like a little child again – safe and reassured. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but it was a good while, and when I had finally calmed down, I felt released. Wearily, I closed my red-rimmed eyes and fell asleep.

When I awoke it was later that night and I was in my bed, tucked in and comfortable. I blinked a few times, not remembering how I had gotten to where I was, until all the events of that day came back to me. I remembered Edward giving me a shoulder to cry on and I felt a small pang of embarrassment. I vaguely remembered him scooping me up and carrying me up the stairs, then placing me on my bed and covering me up, before kissing me softly on the forehead.

I rolled onto my side, towards the window, and three items on my bedside table caught my eye. I saw the beautiful red rose and the mug of hot chocolate. I sat up and although the hot chocolate was no doubt cold, I drank it anyway, due to the incredible thirst I had developed because of the salty tears and also because I didn't want to waste what Edward had made for me.

The third object was a note, folded on crisp white paper into the shape of a swan. I gently unfolded it and read Edward's elegant script.

_I am downstairs when you are ready._

That was all it said, but those seven words seemed to say so much. I glanced out the window and saw that it was nighttime. That meant that if Edward was still here, he had been here for hours. I slipped out of my bed, placing the note with the rose, and made my way downstairs, amazed that he would stay here for so long, with only Charlie to talk to, just to make sure I was all right and to be there for me.

I rounded the corner and saw Edward sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in his hands. He looked up when I entered the room and a smile slowly spread across his face. He held out his hand and I took it, squeezing it gratefully. Silently, he rose from the chair and led me to the front door.

I was confused as he opened it and led me out to the top step. He looked up at the night sky and I looked up to see what he was looking at.

It was beautiful. A bright full moon shone in the sky and stars sprinkled the sky for as far as the eye could see. And that's when I saw a shooting star making its way through the night.

Stunned, I looked up at Edward. He was gazing down at me, smiling, and he squeezed my hand tightly. He didn't have to say anything; I already knew what he was thinking: that perhaps Spot was where he was supposed to be and looking back down at earth with fond memories. Perhaps he was running as fast as he could, like a shooting star, knowing no limits and only happiness.

* * *

**A/N: I know, super-dramatic. I hope that its becoming evident that Edward and Bella's relationship is growing and that they are now closer than ever before; that's what I'm trying to showcase =) Feel free to let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 7: Disease

_Chapter 7: Disease_

It was the very end of August when things began to take a turn for the worst.

I was making my way to Edward's house and when I arrived, I saw him sitting on his front step alone. For some reason, something about that scene made me sad. He was holding a newspaper in his hands, staring aimlessly into space. I approached and sat next to him.

I didn't say anything, sensing that he was in deep thought. He was silent for a moment before he did actually speak.

"They changed the draft age to eighteen years old."

I stared at the newspaper that he held, trying to fight the feeling that a bomb had exploded in my stomach. The draft age until that point had been twenty-one years old. It felt as if one of my fears had been confirmed: potentially losing my best friend.

I was pulled out of my woeful thoughts by Edward's voice, continuing. "In about one year, I'll be old enough to be drafted."

It took a moment for my mind to wrap around this concept. I couldn't imagine Edward as a soldier, risking his life, killing other people. I couldn't imagine him miles away, not walking me to school anymore or leading me on crazy adventures. I couldn't imagine him not in my life.

"Oh," I said softly, because I didn't know what to say.

He nodded. "It's my mother's biggest concern. She would always say that at least she could have me here, safely, for another four years. But honestly, I wouldn't mind going. I want to do my part for my country."

I imagined myself saying goodbye to Edward, before he got on a plane and flew off to some distant country to fight in the war. It was heart-wrenching but I couldn't help but admire that he wanted to do it.

"Well, in one year you just might," I said quietly, trying to ward off the feeling of discomfort I felt. I didn't like the subject one bit. Luckily, he changed it, although the next subject was not much happier.

"Remember that day that we went ice fishing?" he asked me.

I nodded, remembering his warm hands massaging my cold ones.

"Well, the flu I told you about back then has become an epidemic," he continued grimly. "It's all over the world and people are dying. And there have been reported traces here in Chicago already."

I felt fear immediately seize me. I stared at him, with wide eyes. "You're serious?"

Edward nodded. "The Spanish Influenza," he said quietly.

I stared down at the cobblestones lining the sidewalk, concentrating on the different shapes, colors, and sizes. It was like no two were alike. I thought this to myself because I didn't want to think about what Edward had just told me. It felt like a large, gray cloud of doom had settled over the city, bringing bad news from every which way. I knew Edward could sense my worry; he always could. He got up, helping me up with him, and we set off down the street, searching for something to do to take our minds off the war and its side-effects. It seemed to be surrounding us, closing in on us, more and more with each passing day.

It was early September when there was an urgent knock on my door one night. I put down the book I was reading and made my way to the door, not timid because I already knew who it would be.

I opened the door and saw that I was right: it was Edward. But it wasn't how I usually saw him: calm, collected, easy-going, and smiling. His green eyes were wild and there was distress on every inch of his face. His hands were shaking. I quickly pulled him into the house, closing the door behind me (and locking it, since Charlie was working late).

"Edward, what happened?" I asked him quietly, as I saw noticed how pale he was.

He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, sudden shock mixing in with his anguish. It seemed like he was having difficulty finding the right words and this alarmed me slightly; Edward was never at a loss for words. I led him into the parlor, like he had done for me only weeks earlier, and sat him down. I waited patiently until he was calm enough to tell me what had happened.

"Both of my parents have the flu," he told me miserably. "They've both been moved to a hospital."

I stared at him in shock and my heart went out to him. "Edward," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Suddenly, he stood up and backed away from me. "No Bella, I'm the one who should be sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" I asked, confused. "You don't have _anything_ to be sorry for, Edward."

"This was a bad idea," he said quietly, his deep green eyes uneasy. "I shouldn't have come here, I wasn't even thinking. What if I have this flu? I could endanger your life."

I stood up quickly. "I don't care," I told him firmly, stepping closer to him. "I'm glad you came. I don't want you to be alone at a time like this."

Edward let me take his hand in mine and I was relieved to see that he had at least stopped shaking. I pulled him out of the room, into the kitchen, and searched the countertops for something hot to make him. I wanted him to know that he could stay as long as he liked, as long as it took to make him feel better. Even if it took all night.

He talked to me while I made him a mug of coffee. "I don't know what to do," I heard him say from the small table. "I don't want to go home, Bella. I was there momentarily today and all I could think about was _them_ and the disease. And what if the disease lingers there?"

"Like germs?" I asked him quietly, peering over my shoulder, and I saw him nod.

I set the cup in front of him, and he thanked me gratefully. I sat across from him, as an idea came to me.

"Stay with us," I offered. "Edward, Charlie would not mind. You're more than welcome."

"Thank you Bella," he murmured. "That means a lot, but I couldn't impose."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Suddenly, I noticed that his eyes were a deep shade of green; they were greener than I'd ever seen them.

Tears.

"What if they die Bella?" he asked me fearfully. "The survival rate for this epidemic is not high."

"Don't say that," I told him. I reached across the table and took his hand. "Edward, think about what you _always_ tell me. You tell me to be positive, to look on the bright side, to never let life bring me down."

Edward looked down into his cup.

"You really need to do that right now," I said, momentarily surprised at the confidence I heard in my tone. I was never confident.

Edward stayed for a few more hours. At first, we talked about his parents and his fears, and for awhile, we talked about nonsense – random topics that did not even matter. At times, we just sat in silence. Finally, he told me he was going to go stay with his uncle, his mother's brother. I understood completely, I figured he wanted to be with family during this difficult time. I walked him out to the doorstep, the step that held many good memories for us, as well as some trying ones, and he pulled me into a tight hug and held me for awhile.

I don't know how long it was. I hugged him back and never wanted to let go. I didn't like seeing him in pain. I inhaled his familiar, sweet scent and relished the safety and comfort that I felt. When we pulled apart, he gently touched my face. I felt my heart rise.

Edward looked like he desperately wanted to tell me something; I could see it in his eyes. His opened his mouth a few times, but immediately closed it, looking down. I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to encourage him in some way to say what he wanted to say.

At first, I figured it was just more fears about his situation. But when he finally looked at me again, I saw something else in his eyes, something I couldn't quite place at first. It was intense and sincere and it made me feel weak.

It would take me months to realize that it had been love in his eyes.

But in the meantime, he merely gave me a small smile and leaned his forehead against mine. "Stay safe, Bella," he whispered.

"You too," I whispered back, and he squeezed my hand, before disappearing down the street. I did not know at the time that that was the last time I would ever see him as a human.

I still remember the day that my entire world was flipped upside down. It was about two days after Edward had come to tell me about his parents. I was sitting at the kitchen table, drumming my fingers on the wood and thinking about Edward, when I heard the door open. Charlie stepped into the kitchen a few moments later, a grim look set on his face. Immediately, I stood up, not even realizing I was doing so.

"Bells, I think you should probably sit down," Charlie told me wearily.

"Why?" I demanded, fear attacking me. "What happened?"

"Bella…" Charlie trailed off and I could tell that whatever he had to say was a difficult topic to broach. I immediately knew that either someone was hurt or someone had died. And it was driving me insane not knowing.

"Just say it!" I encouraged him. "Please, before you give me a heart attack!"

Charlie walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder, as if he felt that he had to hold me together. "Bella, Edward was taken to the hospital early this morning. He has the flu."

My entire world stopped right then. Those dreaded words that no one in the world at this time wanted to hear, that a loved one had the flu, hit me like a brick.

"What?" I said, stunned. I stared at Charlie with wide, unseeing eyes. I felt myself go numb, I felt the floor fall away. I felt the cool tile on my legs and I realized I had sunk to the floor under the weight of Charlie's terrible news.

"Bella, are you going to be all right?" Charlie asked me, kneeling next to me. I knew he was trying to be calm and collected but even I noticed the underlining panic in his voice. "Do you want me to help you upstairs?"

"I think I just want to stay here for awhile, please," I told him.

I could tell this alarmed Charlie, but he stood up, nonetheless.

"How is he?" I asked suddenly. "What about Mr. and Mrs. Masen?"

"I wish I had answers for you, Bella," Charlie said quietly. "But I don't. I don't know a thing. Those hospitals for flu victims…they're sealed off, almost like some other world."

I sighed, pulling my knees to my chin and leaning my forehead against them. As Charlie walked away reluctantly, I began to do something I rarely ever did: I began to pray silently, in my head.

I prayed that Edward and his parents would be all right. I prayed that their suffering would end. I prayed that this nightmare would end.

I stayed away from newspapers. The Spanish Influenza had consumed the city like wildfire and it was covered extensively in the papers. But nevertheless, I still knew what was happening. I heard Charlie mumble to himself sometimes when he read it, and I couldn't ignore the big, bold, obnoxious headlines that jumped out at me.

Millions of people were dying. Hospitals were overcrowded and doctors and nurses were limited. All schools were closed down. People were panicking. The "Spanish Lady", as they called it on the streets, was unleashing her wrath.

I worried obsessively about Edward. He was all I could think about. I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. I could only think, and thinking drove me crazy.

I almost lost it when Charlie came home two days after telling me about Edward, the same grim look on his face, only slightly worse.

"What?" I cried immediately, jumping off the couch. "What happened?"

"Mr. Masen…" Charlie heaved a sigh before continuing; probably figuring that delaying the topic would do no good. "Mr. Masen passed away this morning."

I stared at him, open-mouthed. I collapsed back on the couch and felt the devastating news sink in. "Oh Edward," I whispered, as I began to cry softly for what he had lost. I wondered if he knew about his father, or if he was so sick that he wasn't able to function, think, or feel correctly.

Charlie sat next to me and awkwardly put an arm around my shoulders. I put my head on his shoulder gratefully and wondered when this would end.

Edward's father's death had sparked some kind of strange impulse in me to find out all I could about the Spanish Influenza. I wanted to know what Edward was going through, no matter how much it hurt me. I wanted to find out what had caused Mr. Masen's untimely end.

I was forced to put my trust in a newspaper, where they constantly reminded readers of the symptoms. A lot of them were fairly common: headache, fever, fatigue. Some were a lot more disturbing: patients could turn blue and cough so violently that their stomach muscles tore. Some bled out of their mouths and ears, some vomited. People died within hours of contracting the flu. I immediately threw the paper to the floor and put a hand over my mouth, feeling sick.

I hadn't even had time to recover from the news of Mr. Masen's death when Charlie came home the next evening and told me that Mrs. Masen had succumbed to the disease. It was almost more than I could bear. I stormed up to my room and slammed the door. I know this alarmed Charlie even more than me staying on the kitchen floor for most of the night, but what could I be expected to do? I couldn't imagine what Edward was going through and _if_…it hurt to think "if"…_if_ he survived the disease, what would he do? How would he react to the deaths of both of his parents and where would he go? It wasn't fair.

I sobbed the entire night, not just for Edward's parents, but for Edward himself. I sobbed because I was so violently afraid that Edward would be next. And I didn't know what I'd do in a world without Edward.

The next morning, after getting absolutely no sleep, I made my down the stairs and to the front door. Charlie had already left for work and so I knew I wouldn't be reprimanded for leaving the house, when I should be staying isolated and safe inside. But if I stayed inside any longer, I was sure I would suffocate.

I walked the street towards the hospital, not even knowing why. There was no point. I'd never be let in, I'd never see Edward, and going so close to it was a terribly idiotic risk. But I couldn't think clearly anymore. My head hurt terribly and I felt so hopeless that I just did not care anymore.

The large brick building came into view and I felt a mix of fear and desperation deep within myself. This was where he was. This is where he was suffering in agony. This is where his parents had died.

Just as I was about to reach the perimeter of the building, Dr. Cullen walked out. When he saw me, he looked shocked. I stopped walking and braced myself for the scolding I would get for coming so close to the building that practically radiated illness from it.

"Bella," he said quietly, walking to me and wearing an expression that reminded me too much of Charlie's.

"Hello Dr. Cullen," I said lifelessly.

"I was just coming to pay you a visit," he said slowly.

Instantly, I wrapped my arms around myself, not quite knowing why I was doing so. I realized later on that I was trying to hold myself together; it was almost like I knew what was coming.

"Bella," Dr. Cullen said softly, his eyes sympathetic. "Edward passed away a few hours ago."

That was it. A cold feeling crept over me as I stared at Dr. Cullen. I couldn't show any emotion at all and I couldn't respond. This nightmare of mine had just reached its peak, and I was trapped.

The last thing I remember was my crippling pain breaking through my trance, as I cried out in agony and everything blacked out as I fell to the ground.

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**A/N: Reviews really make a difference! =)**


	9. Chapter 8: Look Through My Window

**A/N: The motivation for this chapter is a song from the sixties, yay!**

**It's called "Look Through My Window" by The Mamas and the Papas. I love it. And I think it fits this chapter very well, especially the words.**

* * *

_Chapter 8: Look Through My Window_

_And the rain beats on my roof...  
And it does not ask for proof..._

It was February.

It's been almost six months since Edward had died. In those six months, I had become an empty shell. I couldn't function correctly. I had fallen into the deepest depression imaginable.

That awful day when it had all ended, when I had been given the dreadful news, I had fainted. I never had fainted in my entire life and I never thought I would. Dr. Cullen had carried me home and to my bed. He had waited in the kitchen for Charlie to get home, checking on me periodically to make sure I was all right. And that had been the last time I had seen him.

Poor Charlie. These past six months couldn't have been easy on him and I wish I could have been a bit of a better, more stable daughter. But Edward's passing had taken everything out of me and I didn't have the will to do a thing.

And so I lay in bed, alternating between sleeping and sobbing.

_It's not that lovers are unkind;  
She always said there'd come a time  
When one would leave and one stay behind._

I hadn't even consciously realized it when he was alive, but I was in love with him. Now that he was gone it was all I could think about. And I had doubted that he loved me as well, until I had received proof that he did.

My seventeenth birthday was September 13th, about a week after Edward had died. That morning, Charlie had placed some gifts beside my bed. I pretended to sleep.

When he left, I rolled around and looked at the small pile. I wasn't in the celebratory mood and I doubted I would even leave my room that day. I had barely left my room in that week.

I picked up the tiny present on the top of the pile, just for the hell of it, and looked at the tag. When I saw who it was from, I immediately put it back and buried my head in my pillow, feeling a fresh wave of grief wash over me.

It was from Edward. A birthday gift from Edward, as if he was still here.

As if he was still _alive_.

I finally opened it, and after I had finished sobbing for a second time, I ran downstairs to demand of Charlie where it had come from. He told me that it had been found in Edward's home. If he had been alive, he would have given it to me today._  
_

It was a beautiful silver locket in the shape of a heart. My hands shook as I opened it that day. Inside, engraved were the words:

_Come, grow old with me. _

_The best is yet to be._

It brought me back to that day in the meadow in June, his birthday. He had told me he had wanted to grow old. He had been so positive about it. But now he would never know what it was like. He would never get to change my view on the subject, like he said he would.

It made me so incredibly angry. I was the one who didn't want to grow old. I was the pessimistic one. And yet life had been taken from Edward! It wasn't that I wanted to die. It's just that, if someone had had to go, Edward should have been the one to stay, to live his life to the fullest. At least I knew he would live his life to the fullest. As for me, I doubted it, especially now that he was gone.

It wasn't fair. Edward had wanted to live a long, happy life. He had wanted to grow old. And now I was the one who would grow old, alone and miserable.

I told myself that I was going to bury the locket in my drawer and never look at it or speak of it again. But I couldn't do it. For the first few days it sat on my dresser, until it finally made its way around my neck and against my heart.

_  
We both knew people sometimes change  
And lovers sometimes rearrange;  
And nothing's quite as sure as change  
And the rain beats on my roof...  
_

By November I had at least started to venture out of my room and around the house, spending quiet evenings with Charlie. But I still hadn't left the house. And it's not like it mattered because there was no place to go. Schools were still closed, the epidemic was still raging.

On November 11, peace was declared and the war ended. Nine million people died in that war and five million people were to die in the Spanish Influenza pandemic. Edward had not been here to see the war end, to rush to my doorstep excited, with the newspaper in his hands. And if he had lived, he would never have been drafted either.

_  
Look through my window  
To the street below;  
See the people hurrying by  
With someone to meet, some place to go  
And I know I should let go..._

I often sat at my bedroom window and people watched. It was a way to pass the time and occupy my mind, but sometimes it made me incredibly sad. Sometimes I would see Jessica, Angela, or other people I knew passing my house. I had lost touch with them. I had received a few letters from them, telling me how sorry they were about Edward. And I appreciated that but I couldn't bring myself to be social.

The people I watched from my window always had a destination. They always had some place to go, or someone to see. And I didn't. I was here, in my room. My world had ended and that's all I knew. And I couldn't let go. I would never be able to let go.

_She always said "I'm not like you;  
When love is dead, for me it's through  
And I will find and love someone new."_

I would never find anyone knew. Tell me how you replace your best friend. Exactly, you can't.

In December, my mother and Phil arrived to spend the holidays with Charlie and me. It was a comfort to have my mother there with me; it was like she truly _understood_. I opened up to her a bit about what Edward had been like, but I couldn't take about him for long because it made me extremely upset._  
_

Extremely upset, kind of like the constant nightmares I had been having. I was guaranteed a nightmare almost every night. I always awoke screaming. And again, it made me feel bad for Charlie, to have to listen to me every single night.

But I couldn't control the nightmares I had about Edward.

_  
Look through my window, yeah,  
To the street below;  
See the people hurrying by  
With someone to meet, some place to go---  
And I know I should let go...  
_

Around January 1919, the new year, Jacob started to visit me. Although I mostly liked to be by myself, I enjoyed his company. He understood about Edward and I didn't have to explain to him why I was the way I was.

By January, I wasn't a weeping mess anymore. Now, I was just a sulky, depressed individual. No spirit, no joy, no anything. And it made me feel terrible because I wanted to be a better friend to Jacob. I told him this a few times and he waved it off, saying I was perfect just the way I was.

That I found hard to believe.

_  
I must admit she knew her mind;  
And it will not take her long to find  
Another place where the sun will shine  
_

I'm convinced that I will never be happy again. And that's all there is to it. And that's because my best friend is gone forever. Never again will I be able to hold his hand, hug him, laugh and talk with him, look into his beautiful green eyes. Never again will I be comforted. Never again will I be adventurous and never again will I visit our meadow. Never again will I believe someone when they tell me everything will be all right.

Never again will life be the same.

And the rain beats on my roof  
If I still require proof...  
Well, the rain beats on my roof

He's gone.

_  
If I still require proof... _

He's gone.

_

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_

**A/N: Since my high school teachers (and now college professors) have constantly drilled the evil of plagerism into my brain, I feel like I have to site the WWI death number statistics and Influenza death statistics. So here we go:**

**I got it from a website from the United States Department of Health and Human Services, on a page entitled: The Great Pandemic, 1918-1919**

**Please review! =)**


	10. Chapter 9: Red Summer

_Chapter 9: Red Summer_

I had become a recluse in every sense of the word.

There was no reason to go anywhere. Although the Spanish Influenza had disappeared for the most part, too much time had passed and there was no point in resuming school. Classes would start again in September and that left me with a ridiculous amount of free time.

I tried to keep myself occupied. I read as much as I could and I thoroughly cleaned and organized the house. Jacob still visited often and Charlie had created a little tradition of spending Saturdays at the reservation. I think he was trying to get me out of the house and looking forward to things. And I really did look forward to those Saturdays.

But when I wasn't visiting the Blacks, I stayed in the house. When Jacob came over, he tried to change that. We started small: I sat on the doorstep every day. Although the doorstep reminded me so much of…Edward, (it hurt to even _think_ his name) I did it anyway. Jacob gave me enough hope to want to attempt to live again, although I still believed I would never be whole ever again.

Eventually, I started taking walks with Jacob. The fresh air was calming and I found myself looking forward to these walks. I could tell Jacob was looking out for me, because he avoided certain routes that he knew would remind me of…Edward…, such as the street with the hospital on it.

Sometimes I felt like I was being watched. For the most part, I believed this was just paranoia. One could hardly call me sane, after hiding out in the house for so many months. Sometimes I also thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned to look, it would be gone.

I told Jacob about this and he suggested that it was heightened awareness on my part, since I hadn't been out of the house in a few months. He said that now that I was out, I was aware of _everything_.

One April morning, I decided to go sit on the doorstep with a book while I waited for Jacob. I was starting to feel a little bit better, although the heavy grief was still there. But as I opened the front door, I stopped completely in surprise, my book dropping to the ground with a loud thump.

There was a beautiful red rose on the doorstep.

I didn't like to think about red roses. They reminded me of Edward. I still had the red rose he gave me the day Spot was put to sleep. It was buried in my closet, withered and faded, but still there.

I was shaking as I knelt on the doorstep and picked up the rose. Where had this come from? Who had put it there? I looked around, expecting Jacob to pop out from somewhere, but he was nowhere to be seen. And surely it wasn't Charlie, because if Charlie were going to leave me a rose he would have left it somewhere sensible, like the kitchen table.

I wrapped an arm around my stomach, feeling sick. This was _not_ funny. I felt warm, angry tears slipping down my cheeks as I sat on the doorstep, my legs folded beneath me, and the rose still in my hands. All I could think about was Edward: his face, his voice, his touch, his adventures, his advice, his love…

Who was I kidding? Jacob could drag me out into the world, or even onto my doorstep, every day if he wanted, but I would never be the same again.

Through my blurred vision, I saw someone running towards me. It seemed like they were moving in slow motion…

"Bella?" I heard a panicked voice, as two warm arms enclosed me in their embrace. "Bella, what happened?"

Jacob had arrived and he was holding me tightly, trying to keep me from falling apart at the seams. I turned my face into his chest, gripping the rose in my hands, unconsciously crushing it.

"Bella," Jacob murmured. "Bella, tell me about it."

"Someone left a _rose_ on my doorstep!" I told him, knowing I probably sounded hysterical.

I knew Jacob was confused, so I launched into a full description on what had made me so upset. He nodded, and I knew he understood. I didn't know where this rose had come from but he did know that it had opened a wound. And now it was up to him to try and heal it…again.

Gently, he picked me up effortlessly and brought me into the house, setting me carefully on the sofa.

"Bella," he said quietly. "It could have just been a mistake. Perhaps it was a delivery, or someone carelessly put that rose on the wrong step."

But I didn't believe that. Roses didn't just accidently pop up on doorsteps.

Jacob and I spent the entire day in the house. I hated the fact that this little setback had affected my day the way it did, and that I was once again taking refuge in the house. Jacob was, as always, supportive. He sat with me; talking to me and making me talk it out, holding me at times, and making me laugh. Before he left, he made me promise that I would take a walk with him the next day.

Slowly and surely, summer approached. But it wasn't the warm, boring, carefree days that I had known when Edward was alive. Instead, it was the Red Summer of 1919 – a summer filled to the brim with hate, confusion, and fear.

The war was over but the nation was tangled in a new conflict: race riots. And some of these riots were taking place in the very city that I lived in, Chicago.

They say it started sometime in May, but I was unaware of it at the time, since I had lost interest in newspapers and what they had to say. It was never good news, so why bother?

African Americans had begun to move to the city, in search of better jobs and homes, as well as to escape the harsh racism and segregation of the Deep South. This created friction with the white people who had already established a plateau in the city.

The unthinkable happened during that summer. I made a new friend.

I had started walking to the general store at times by mid-June, by myself if Jacob wasn't around, and a few times I bumped into a young African American around my age, named James Walker.

One day, I arrived at the general store to see him standing outside, frowning at the door, in deep thought. At this point, I had only seen him twice, but I felt comfortable enough to call out to him and to ask him why he was hovering outside the store looking so perplexed. He explained to me that where he had come from, down south, many places had been segregated and even in the places that weren't, blacks hadn't been very welcome. He told me he was afraid this was becoming the case in Chicago.

"James," I said gently. "You need necessities to live. They can't refuse you here."

"I'm not so sure about that, Bella," James replied, looking at his shoes.

I sat down on the bench outside the store (all the while trying not to think about how I had sat there countless times with Edward) and James sat with me. He told me a bit about his past. He had come from Georgia and he was an orphan, but had four older sisters and an older brother. They had fled Georgia, tired of the racism, segregation, and threats; he told me stories of the Ku Klux Klan that sent chills down my spine. He had split up with a few of his siblings for the time being, until hopefully all the madness died down. He was staying with his sister and brother here in Chicago, while his eldest three sisters were in a neighboring city.

Which brought us to that moment. He had an increasing fear of segregation here in the north, to the point where he was afraid to go into public places.

"I'll go with you," I offered. At that moment, a middle-aged couple strolled by and when they saw both of us sitting on a bench together, their stares turned disapproving.

James turned to me as they walked away. "You just saw what I'm afraid of in action," he told me in a low voice. "In the mildest way possible." But he accepted my suggestion, and we made our way into the general store together.

It was empty, except for old Mr. Becker who was behind the counter as usual, with a newspaper and a cup of tea. He looked up when we entered his store, and gave us a friendly smile and a little wave. I turned to look and smile at James, who looked surprised and slightly confused.

From that day on, James and I became very good friends. I began to divide up my time between Jacob and James, and sometimes, all three of us would go down to the lake together. At first, Jacob was reluctant about this idea, no doubt afraid that it would remind me of Edward and happier times. But I assured him I would be all right. And I was.

A few weeks after I had marched James into the general store, he took me to a small flat a few blocks away to meet his brother and sister. His brother, Benjamin Walker, was the eldest sibling, in his late twenties, and he was as nice as could be. He was warm, inviting, and quite funny. His sister, Ebony Walker, was about a year older than James, but the youngest of all of his sisters.

Many hot, summer nights, I would sit on the balcony with them, playing cards, eating pie, and listening to their fascinating stories. They told me about their other sisters: the eldest, Aretha; the second eldest, Shareese, and the third eldest, Rondall. They would urge me to tell them a little bit about my story, and I did tell them the basics, but never anything about Edward. I still thought about him all of the time and that was hard enough. I couldn't speak about him, too.

But things began to get progressively worse in the windy city of Chicago. And I'm dismayed to say that it did get to the point where James, his siblings, and I – and all of the black community for that matter – couldn't frequent public places together. Even the beach and the lake became segregated. But they were always allowed in Mr. Becker's general store.

It was July 27, 1919, when the nightmare started. I was reading on the sofa, when I heard an urgent knock on the door. I tried not to think about the last time I had heard an urgent knock on my door.

I opened it and saw James on the doorstep, looking extremely nervous. A thud sounded in the distance and he jumped. Wondering why he was so anxious, I pulled him into the house and shut the door. He visibly relaxed.

"What's wrong?" I asked him timidly, as he followed me into the parlor.

"Have you heard what happened earlier today?" James asked me fearfully, as he began to pace the room.

"No," I said as I sat on the dark maroon armchair next to the window. I was starting to become rather nervous myself.

"Down at the lake today," James began, "whites began throwing rocks at blacks and a black man was arrested, _instead of a white man_! And at another beach, a black was struck with a rock _and died_! It's happening, Bella! It's happening here, too! I thought we could escape it, even for just awhile, but it's followed us!"

I stood up and walked across the room to him. I grabbed his shaking handsd and steadied them. "James," I said firmly. "You can't think like that. Things will work out. You have Ben and Ebony and you're all safe. Things like that only happen to people who get involved…right?" I was suddenly feeling uncertain.

"I'm not so sure about that, Bella," James said sadly. "I'm beginning to think that even the innocent aren't safe anymore. Anything can happen to anyone."

James stayed for awhile longer, before departing for the flat he shared with his brother and sister. Charlie came home shortly after, looking grim, and reported to me a lot of what James had already told me. But Charlie had even more news than that. He told me about how massive fights had broken out and how both a black man and a white man had drowned.

I didn't get much sleep that night. And I didn't get much peace the next day, July 28. Charlie had made me promise him not to leave the house that day, and I obeyed. I wanted desperately to go see James, to see if he was all right. But I didn't dare leave the house. And for the first time in a long time, I couldn't ignore the newspaper lying on the kitchen table. I read about the recent disasters and felt horror slowly creep into my system.

The day after that, July 29, was worse than the days before. While I sat in the parlor, I began to hear the shouts, cusses, and threats on the street outside my own home. The neighborhood James lived in was worse than mine and I couldn't stop myself from picturing the horror stories that I knew were unfolding there.

I hadn't heard from James or his siblings since the day he had come to see me and that concerned me. It was almost five at night and I knew Charlie would be working overtime, trying to fix what had gone wrong in our city. Locking the front door securely behind me, I crept along the now almost empty streets and traveled the route to the Walker flat.

Like I said, my street had become quiet. But James's neighborhood was anything but that. There were fights breaking out in the street and one of the apartments was on fire. I heard shouts, screams, and a few policemen scattering about, trying to create some kind of order.

I ran up the old, wooden steps to the room where the Walker siblings were staying. The door was wide open and they were nowhere to be found.

Panicking, I ran back down the stairs and looked around the streets, knowing perfectly well that I shouldn't be there, that I could get hurt. But I didn't care at that moment.

And then I spotted the three of them, huddled together in a dark corner. I ran to them, noticing that Benjamin's eyes widened in fear when he saw me.

"Bella?" he said in disbelief, but I couldn't hear him. The chaos of the background rang in my ears, and the sight before me made me unbelievably sad.

James, Benjamin, and Ebony were confident, amazing people. They were positive, they had faith, and despite their circumstances, they tried to have a bit of fun and to go on with life. And they had made me want to follow their example.

And so to see the three of them - broken and afraid, holding hands and watching the horrible scenes unfold before their eyes – was painful. Benjamin looked like he had already been in a fight, with his unruly hair, black eye, and torn trousers. Ebony's eyes were red-rimmed and tired, as she clung to a bag that no doubt held valuables. James looked defeated and slightly angry, but when he saw me, he looked surprised.

"Bella?" He whispered as he broke away from his brother and sister. "Bella, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Helping you," I whispered back.

"Bella!" James said wildly. "Bella, you must go home! You're not safe here."

"Neither are you!" I protested, taking his hand and pulling him away from the corner, while beckoning to Ben and Ebony to follow.

"Bella, who knows what they would do to you?" James asked me. "A white helping a black? It's unheard of to them!"

That's when I thought of it. I could take James and his siblings to the meadow and they would be safe. Although I had vowed never to set foot in that meadow again, I knew I had to. I would be saving lives.

"Listen James," I said in a low voice. "I know where you can go. I know you can't stay here in Chicago, because Charlie said it's only going to get worse. But I do know where you can escape."

James stared at me for a moment, obviously wanting to resist, but then he grabbed Ebony's hand, and allowed me to lead them quickly away from their tumultuous neighborhood.

I ran like I had never run before. I wasn't in the shape to do so, but the Walkers were, and they ran with spirit. As we arrived onto the main streets of Chicago, we noticed that the same scenes were unfolding, only worse. A lot worse. But I kept running. I tried to ignore the shouts, screams of pain, and sounds of violence but it was so difficult.

A few minutes later, I saw something that caused me to stop in my tracks. Two white men were looking at us and pointing. I knew that this only meant trouble. They were obviously drunk, and were starting to stumble over to us.

I turned to the three of them. "Go into the woods," I whispered as fast as I could while still being comprehensible. "Keep going straight, up the hill, and don't stop. You'll come to a meadow after awhile and there is even more forest. I know if you go through it, you'll come out safe somewhere."

"Bella, we can't leave you," Benjamin said firmly, his eyes on the two men.

"If you do, they'll leave me alone," I promised him. "I'll run. They're too drunk to be fast."

The Walker siblings obviously wanted to stay and defend me, but they knew what that would mean. They knew that would result in a fight, and even possibly death. They turned and ran, James giving my hand one quick squeeze before following his brother and sister. I saw that the men were still walking over, and I turned and began to run the other way.

It was utter confusion. I weaved through the mobs, the fires, and the fights, trying to ignore the screams of those on the ground and the screams of those seeking revenge. I had to believe right now that my friends were safe, and that I would remain safe.

Someone grabbed my hair at that point and I was yanked backwards. I cried out, ready to wrench myself away, but they were too strong. I tensed up, ready to fight back, but then I heard a grunt and the feeling of relief on my scalp as I was released. I turned and looked to see one of the drunk men on the ground, clutching his stomach, and a hooded figure grabbing my hand and pulling me away.

Not realizing at first that this hooded figure had saved me, I resisted, thinking that they weren't on my side. But I heard a very soft, husky voice mutter, "It's all right, Bella," and I let them lead me away, towards the woods.

I had no idea who that person was. They wore black and the hood concealed their face. It was obviously a male, but who could it be? Jacob? No, it couldn't be. I noticed how warm, soft, and strong his hand was. It felt familiar, it felt safe.

I followed the figure, clinging to his hand as he led me up the hill. I stumbled at times and he caught me, before setting me back on my feet and urging me to find the will to continue again. Endless moments passed, before I found myself at Edward's meadow. I turned to thank the figure, but he was already gone.

The sun was setting and it cast beautiful, orange-pink shadows upon the small lake and the tops of the trees. I saw James, Benjamin, and Ebony standing helplessly in the middle of the meadow and I stumbled over to them.

Ebony was crying softly, Benjamin's arm securely around her shoulder, while James looked around, obviously trying to figure out where they were supposed to go. When they saw me, they looked relieved, and rushed to meet me.

Ebony grasped my hands. "Thank you, Bella," she said tearfully. "You saved us today. If you hadn't pulled us out, and to this beautiful meadow, we would be dead."

I offered her a smile that I hoped was genuine, although I felt like crying myself. "It's the least I could do." She gave me a hug, before stepping back.

Benjamin pulled me into a bear hug next, thanked me, and told me that they were going straight into the forest ahead. They would reside in the next town for the night, before getting in touch with their sisters and reuniting.

When Ben stepped back, James stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. I felt tears burn my eyes as I realized that this was goodbye.

"Thank you so much Bella," he whispered, "for everything. I don't know what we would have done without you."

"Thank you for everything you've done for me, as well," I whispered back. "Take care of yourself and please, keep in touch."

I felt him smile and we hugged for another few moments. And then, the Walkers hurried to the forest.

I wrapped my arms around myself as I watched them with a heavy heart. They all turned back before they entered the woods, smiling and waving, before they disappeared, heading for safety and a better life.

I didn't want to be in the meadow alone and so as fast as I could, I walked away in the opposite direction, and began the descent down the hill.

I knew I had to focus on getting home safely. I had to stick to the woods, or at least to thinly populated streets, so that I wouldn't run into anymore trouble. And I had to get home before Charlie noticed that I had left.

This should have been enough to occupy my mind, but I couldn't help but feel the familiar edge of extreme sadness settling in my stomach. I felt warm tears drifting down my face as I thought about how three more friends had left me. I would miss them so much.

I didn't like goodbyes.

I knew I shouldn't be remorseful. I should be glad that I had known them, and that they were heading somewhere better than Chicago, and that I would maybe meet up with them again someday. But it was very difficult to be positive at that moment.

I was so immersed in my thoughts that I didn't notice the tree branch in my path. I tripped over it and my arms flailed out, hoping to catch something, anything, so that I wouldn't fall down the hill.

But someone caught me. My heart plummeted into my stomach as the physical pain I was expecting never came. Whoever had caught me set me on my feet and I saw once again that it was the hooded figure that had helped me before. He looked like he was about to back away, but I took a step forward. I should have been afraid, but I wasn't. I felt unbelievably calm.

I didn't want him to get away, because I wanted to thank him.

And I had to find out who he was.

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**A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to update. School has started up again and things are pretty hectic. But I am going to update as much as I possibly can. **

**Edward returns in the next chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think. =)**


	11. Chapter 10: Who Are You?

_Chapter 10: Who Are You?_

"Wait," I said quickly, as I saw that the figure was about to turn and run. He paused, but didn't turn towards me. Again, I told myself that I should have been afraid. My situation was not a familiar or normal one. I was standing in the woods with a stranger as the last beams of daylight gleamed through the woods, and this stranger would not show me his face. If I hadn't been so curious, it probably would have frightened me: he looked like a grim reaper almost, entirely in black, the dark cloak with the hood covering his face. I wondered how he could see, but realized that the fabric of his hood was probably thin enough for him to see somewhat. The only trace of skin I could see were two, pale white.

I had to say something, because the Figure was waiting. "Thank you," I said quietly, and I saw him nod quickly. Suddenly, my curiosity and confidence vanished and I felt awkward. But there wasn't time to feel like that for very long, because there was a rustling sound behind me. I turned and saw four black men running in our direction, their faces a mix of anger, disgust, and fear. Bewildered, I watched as they ran past us and further along the hill. And not that far away, I saw five white men coming from the same direction, obviously in pursue of the four black men. My eyes widened in horror as I realized what they were going to do and I took a step towards the direction that the black men had run.

But the Figure had grabbed my hand and I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized the hand was ice cold. Hadn't it been warm before? "Bella," the voice told me firmly. "Come."

The white men were running closer now and I could see rope, guns, and knives in their calloused hands. Feeling my own fear threatening to strangle me, I pulled away from the Figure and stared at the approaching white men as if I were in a trance. I stepped towards them; they were so close, I could see the whites of their terrifying eyes. And that's when the Figure pulled me swiftly into his arms, turned, and ran us away from the horror.

Whoever this Figure was, he was fast. He was so fast, that I had to wrap my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck, or I would surely have fallen. Or on the other hand, maybe not – the Figure had a tight enough grip on me.

The trees blurred together in a disorienting haze. Was it possible for someone to go this fast? It almost seemed…inhuman. I was beginning to feel motion sick and so I buried my face in the Figure's shoulder.

The scent was so familiar and so sweet that my head snapped up and I immediately forgot about my motion sickness. I hated to admit it to myself…but the Figure smelled like Edward. Could it be? I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to forget. That was impossible; it was insane to even think such a thing. But I couldn't get Edward out of my mind at that moment, as I wished desperately that he were there, alive, helping me through this nightmare.

The Figure set me down once we reached the outskirts of the city, but still held my hand as we ran through the streets. The commotion had not died down and I tried not to see as whites and blacks tried to kill each other. Instead, I stared straight ahead, to wherever my destination was, and at times, I stared at the ground.

I felt an overwhelming relief as I saw my familiar doorstep in sight. The Figure rushed me up the steps and I fumbled awkwardly in my pocket for my key. As I opened the door, I turned to the Figure, who hadn't run away…yet.

I reasoned that he was waiting until I was safely inside before he made his escape. But I couldn't let him go quite that easily.

"Thank you again," I said quietly, my hand suddenly sweaty on the door handle. "I would have been in serious trouble if it hadn't been for you." I was a bit shocked at where this outpour of gratitude was coming from, since I wasn't particularly good with words, especially with people I didn't know.

"You're welcome," the Figure whispered, taking a step backward, down the steps.

Neither of us was moving and it was incredibly strange, but I felt like I was back in that odd trance.

"Who are you?" I murmured, wishing I could see through the fabric, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Figure's hand twitch.

He was silent for a moment, before stepping backward down one more step.

"Just a simple man," he said so quietly I had to strain to hear him, "who happened to be looking out for you." And with that, he disappeared into the twilight.

Stunned, I walked into the hall and shut and locked the door behind me. I saw that Charlie was not home yet and wouldn't know about my little adventure. Feeling slightly numb, I climbed the stairs to my room and turned on the lamp. I sat in the soft, warm light and thought.

I didn't know where the Figure had come from, but he had been there and he had saved me twice. A mysterious man who followed me and who knew where I lived should have been enough for me to be alarmed and alert Charlie immediately, but for some reason, I felt calm. I _knew_ I was in no danger. I knew that this individual would not hurt me.

He didn't want me to know who he was. But why? And was he the one who had left me the red rose back in April? And if he had…why?

_Why?_

These questions all plagued me, but the thing that bothered me most of all was how he had awakened partially hidden thoughts and feelings: thoughts of Edward. Suddenly, I once again remembered what it was like to be around him, everything from the calm feeling I knew when I was with Edward to his sweet, familiar scent.

I lie down and begin to drift off to sleep, again knowing I should be afraid, but knowing I would remain serene.

The race riots ended on the third of August and life began to go back to normal…whatever normal was. The weather had turned extremely hot and Jacob and I were sitting on my doorstep, bored and sweating.

"Bella, maybe we should go to the lake," Jacob muttered as he pushed his hair away from his forehead.

"I'm sure every inch of the beach is taken," I told him, staring at the pavement that seemed to emit heat.

Jacob grumbled something I couldn't make out and I smiled slightly.

I hadn't told Jacob about the Figure because truthfully, after that mysterious day, I had tried not to think about him. It was simply too strange for me; it was like something I would find in one of the novels I read. It was almost like he was a phantom. And life went on and I heard no more of him, but sometimes I wondered if the sensation of being watched was due to him.

September came and the anniversary of Edward's death approached. I felt all of the progress I had made slip away during these few unbearable days as the despair and haunting memories returned. And although I felt trapped within the walls of sadness, I forced myself to do things. I forced myself to get out of bed, to walk around the house, to make conversation with Charlie, and to carry on with life as I knew it.

I decided to take a trip to the general store. I knew this was probably too big a step for me; this was the first anniversary and I should probably have stayed within the safe borders of my house. But I felt suffocated and made my way out into the cool, crisp autumn air.

I folded my arms around myself and walked, not at all in a hurry. I took in everything around me; the sights, the sounds, the smells. I had been in Chicago for around a year and a half and I was a completely different person…one I didn't even recognize anymore.

I came upon the bridge where Edward and I had first met in January, 1918. I had slipped on ice and he had caught me. That seemed so long ago now…

I placed one hand on the wooden railing and it was as if emotional pain seeped from the prickly wood, up my arm, and into my chest. All of a sudden, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I sunk to my knees and leaned my forehead against the railing, feeling nauseous. I couldn't bear it. I missed Edward with every ounce of my being and I didn't know how to carry on without him. I squeezed my eyes shut against the hot tears that were forming behind my lids and wrapped my arms around myself tightly, trying to hold myself together as the crippling pain threatened to rip me apart.

And that's when I felt the white hot pain in my back and I blacked out.

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**A/N: I know it's taken me forever to update yet again. :/ We can thank school and work for not allowing me to have a life anymore. But here is another installment, a bit shorter than the others, but here nonetheless. =)**


	12. Chapter 11: Edward Cullen

_Chapter 11: Edward Cullen_

_I was on a mountain._

_It was a beautiful mountain, or at least, half of it was. The half where I was sitting with my legs folded beneath me was covered in lush, green grass – grass that was almost too perfect. There was a tall, strong tree here or there and the sun was bright and warm in the clear blue sky. It made me happy just sitting there, in the middle of it. _

_But when I looked to my right, that feeling of serenity vanished. The other side of the mountain was hell in every sense. The ground had no grass – it was dry and cracked in the middle, as if an earthquake had recently shattered it. The few trees that were there were split down the middle. The sky was a blood red color and thunder sounded in the distance. Bats swooped down, almost crossing the line to my beautiful sanctuary, and that's when I saw Edward, standing on the Hell side, watching me intently._

_I instantly scrambled to my feet, ready to cross the line to the Hell side, just to be able to be near him again. But alarm flashed in his eyes and he held up a hand. I stopped short, still on the sunny side. I squinted a bit and then took a step back in surprise._

_Edward's eyes were flashing in a completely inhuman way. First they were green, then a butterscotch color, then black, and then red. These four colors kept alternating until I had to turn away momentarily to steady myself and distract my dizzy mind._

_When I looked back, he was gone._

When I awoke, the late afternoon sun was streaming through my window. Disoriented, I wondered at first why I was still in bed at this hour, but then realized that I had been outside, on the bridge earlier today. Blinking quickly, I tried to remember what had happened. Why couldn't I remember?

I sat up quickly and cried out, immediately lying back down. A sharp pain had shot from my lower back up my spine, and I tried not to panic. Had I thrown out my back? What was wrong with me? What was going on?

"You shouldn't move," a voice told me and I turned my head.

The Figure was standing beside my bed.

And this time, I struggled against the calm feeling that was threatening to surround me. I couldn't be calm around this being, it just wasn't natural to be calm around someone who you didn't know and whose face you couldn't see.

"What happened?" I whispered, needing to know how we had both gotten to where we were at that moment.

"You were attacked," the Figure said bitterly and I frowned. That was not enough information to explain why I was lying in bed, in pain.

"How?" I asked and the Figure stepped back.

He had saved my life yet again and was already retreating. But I wouldn't let him, not until I got answers. I struggled to sit up and the Figure immediately reached out to me, before dropping his hand. "You really shouldn't move," he said helplessly.

"Why?" I demanded, wincing as the pain shot up my back again.

"You could cause further damage to your back," the Figure told me and I felt a stab of grim satisfaction. I didn't have to listen to him. He couldn't tell me what to do. He wouldn't touch me, I knew, and so I could get up and walk around as I pleased.

I got out of my bed and walked slowly to the window. As soon as my back was turned, I made a face; I was in so much pain all of a sudden. I stared down into the street, not wanting him to know how much my back really hurt.

I could sense the Figure directly behind me now, although his movements were quiet. I suddenly felt uncomfortable and I realized I was holding my breath.

I forced myself to breathe again. "Please, tell me what happened," I said quietly.

"It's not important right now," the Figure said and I turned around in disbelief.

"Not important?" I repeated slowly, suddenly unable to take my eyes off of him.

The Figure didn't say anything and I felt the odd awkwardness threatening to strangle me.

"Who are you?" I demanded in a low voice.

Now that he was refusing to answer me – almost like he wasn't on my side at all – he had a grim reaper air to him and it made me uncomfortable.

He turned away, indicating that he would not speak, and I felt my anxiety turn into raw anger.

I did something I never thought I was capable of doing. I reached out and ripped the Figure's hood off.

You know that one instance where you know your life has changed forever and that things will never be the same? That was one of those moments. I knew it.

I drew back my hand in horror and backed up, only to back into the window sill. The pain in my back intensified but I hardly cared anymore.

The Figure was Edward.

He saw the physical pain I was in and reached out to me, but it was nothing compared to the emotional pain I was revisiting. I shrank away from his hand, confused and shocked beyond belief.

I didn't know what to do.

So I let out an outraged shriek. "You!" I shouted.

"Bella," Edward murmured, a look of shock passing over his face at my reaction.

I knew it was Edward, but he looked so…different. I had only mere seconds to take it all in. He was extremely pale; his skin was practically bone white. His eyes were not the bright and vibrant green I had known, but instead a topaz color…the color of butterscotch. My dream returned to me and my own eyes widened at the similarity.

It wasn't just the physical differences that struck me, though. There was a strange air to him. He wasn't the calm and content Edward that I had known. He looked incredibly anguished and there were strange, purple circles under his eyes. I felt afraid suddenly.

Was he a ghost? Was I seeing things? Tears burned my eyes as I ran my hands through my hair. "I knew it," I whispered brokenly. "I _knew_ it. I'm going insane."

"You're not insane," Edward said quietly, and hearing his voice – and knowing it was him this time – was more than I could take. I pushed past him so that he wouldn't see how hysterical I was becoming. I made my way out of my room and into the hall, as if this would keep him away, as if this would help me regain my sanity.

To my complete dismay, I sunk to the floor and began to cry. For a year I had been trying to accept the fact that my best friend, whom I loved, was dead and never coming back. And then he appeared back into my life as easily as that, as if nothing had changed.

And he had been _hiding_. And he had been manipulative. He had been following me around, dressed as some hooded masquerader, and he hadn't even told me it was him. How long had he been planning to stay like that?

And it was so uncharacteristic of him. Edward – my Edward – wasn't like that. I was further convinced that I was either dreaming or seeing things.

Edward was _dead_. I put my hand to my mouth to stifle the sobs. Yes, yes, it suddenly made sense – it was around the time of the anniversary of his death and so it would be natural for me to feel out of sorts, to maybe even feel a little crazy and think that I was seeing him.

But that didn't explain the presence that I felt next to me.

I looked up and Edward was kneeling next to me, obviously afraid to get too close to me, afraid of my reaction.

"So what, are you a ghost?" I asked miserably. I couldn't even look at him.

"No," Edward answered.

"So you're alive?" I inquired in disbelief, my eyes dropping to the wooden floorboards.

"No," Edward said, even softer than before.

"Then what are you?"

Edward was silent for a moment before speaking. He chose his words carefully. "You don't want to know that, Bella. And I don't want you to know that."

I was getting rather sick and tired of the confusing answers that he was giving me – answers that really weren't answers at all.

And why was I thinking as if it was really Edward who with me? It _couldn't _be. Either this was a dream or I was truly going insane. I didn't feel like I was dreaming, so I must have been seeing things. I was pretty certain that if anyone looked into the hall at that moment, they would see me having a conversation with pure air.

"You probably don't even exist," I whispered. "I'm probably talking to no one right now."

"Bella, you are _not crazy_," Edward said firmly, reaching out to touch my arm. Immediately, he realized what he had done and drew his hand back quickly. But I had already felt his ice cold touch. It sent violent shivers down my spine and I couldn't move. My tears stopped abruptly, due to the shock.

"You were Edward Masen," I murmured, absent-mindedly touching the heart locket that he had left for me and that I always wore. "You were my best friend. Now I don't know what you are."

"I'm still your best friend, Bella," Edward said, his voice gentle (and almost like velvet) and I turned to look at him. "I'm just not Edward Masen anymore."

I immediately wished I hadn't looked at him. I was hit with the shock of seeing him in front of me all over again.

And he was _beautiful_. He had always been beautiful to me when he was…alive…but now, he seemed practically godly; inhumanly perfect. Was he an angel?

"I'm Edward Cullen."

Edward _Cullen_?

"As in…Dr. Cullen?" I asked numbly and he nodded.

At that moment, I heard the door open downstairs. Charlie was home.

I was still staring at Edward and I saw brief panic cross his face.

"Let me help you," he whispered, and I knew he meant out of the hallway. I shook my head, knowing I would lose it if he touched me again.

"Bella," he said softly, moving towards me. I tried to move back, but felt my back give out again. As the spasms began, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it to stop.

But Edward had already lifted me into his arms, although I struggled desperately. The cold sensation returned; I felt like I had been plunged into ice cold water.

Edward placed me into my bed as I heard Charlie call up to me. I looked towards the door, trying to figure out what I would tell Charlie, and when I looked back to Edward, he was gone.

Had that been a dream? It had to be. I had to convince myself that that had not happened. If I didn't, I would lose it completely.

For over a month, he had been The Figure. For over a year, he had been dead. He wouldn't tell me how I was attacked, and he wouldn't tell me what he was doing or what he was.

I lay back down and buried my face in my pillow, trying to ignore the devastating emotional pain that was creeping back into my system. That had definitely been my imagination. He wasn't even there anymore.

But I couldn't ignore the pain that was still in my back, or the solid fact that someone had carried me to my house and placed me safely in my bed.

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**A/N: I was going to try and write this chapter a different way, but this was the way it unfolded in my mind and thus, the only way I could see it happening. I hope it was believable! School has literally turned my brain to mush and has shattered my motivation, but I'm trying! It's Spring Break now, so that means more free time =) **

**Thank you for the reviews! Lemme know what you think =)**


	13. Chapter 12: Answerless

**A/N: Before anything else, I want to say that I am SO sorry that I haven't updated in so long. I think it's been almost four months, maybe a bit less, but with school and work and etc, things got a bit hectic. But now that it's summer, I will continue to update as often as possible (no more four month stretches!) =)**

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__Chapter 12: Answerless_

_Knock, knock, knock._

I stirred slightly, the irritating noise pulsing in time with my brain and my steady heartbeat. Still immersed half in a strangely pleasant dream, I heard the knocking sound louder, on my own bedroom door.

"Bella?" I heard Charlie's voice call. "Bella…someone is here to see you."

I didn't want to see anyone. It took all of my strength to bite my lip and not tell Charlie to send them away.

"Bella?"

"I'll be right down," I called hoarsely, knowing he was probably concerned. And why should he not be? I had been lying in bed literally all day. But he had to know it was the one year anniversary of…Edward's death. What else could I do?

I carefully got out of bed, expecting to feel spasms galore in my back, but I felt nothing. In fact, it was like my back had never been hurt. Puzzled by this, I glanced around the room and saw that it was night. I really had been in bed all day.

After combing my fingers through my hair, I stepped into the hallway and shivered. Just hours before, hadn't I been in this hallway with…? The thought made me go cold. I hoped it wasn't Edward who was downstairs to see me. But it couldn't be. How would he explain his appearance to Charlie, up and walking about when he was supposed to be cold in the ground?

I walked through the kitchen, anticipation building up in my chest. When I got to the hall and saw that it was only Jacob, I felt immense relief…and an unreasonable, small pang of disappointment. I ignored that last feeling as he embraced me, his touch absolutely and shockingly warm compared to…

_Stop it, Bella. _

"Are you all right?" he asked me, pulling back to hold me at arm's length, concern lining every inch of his face.

"I'm fine," I lied, my gaze traveling past him to Charlie, who was pretending to be completely interested in a book. I hardly ever saw Charlie read anything besides a newspaper and I know he was concerned as well, but glad Jacob was here.

I gently pulled Jacob out the door and onto the porch, wondering if I should tell him what had happened earlier in the day. As we sat on the cold steps, the cool autumn air surrounding us, I decided against it. He would probably only think I was crazy.

"How are you holding up?" Jacob asked me and I knew he was referring to the fact that today was the anniversary of…something.

"I'm hanging in there," I told him truthfully, as I felt him slide his hand comfortingly into mine.

"Good," he nodded. "You're doing so well, Bella, and I know you'll continue to do well."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know you," he said simply.

I smiled slightly and looked into the darkness. We were silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

"How is your back doing?"

I looked at him sharply, feeling myself go cold again.

How could he have known that? The only person who knew I hurt my back was the person who carried me home after it had happened. I became immediately suspicious. What if Jacob knew something?

Jacob must have seen my wary expression because he spoke up at once. "The way you are sitting," he pointed out quickly. "You are hunched over and it looks like your back is pained."

"Oh," I said, not believing him for a moment. He knew something…I knew that he knew something. "It's fine."

Jacob nodded and looked away. I suddenly felt as if something had forced a giant space in between us, although he was still sitting close to me, his hand in mine. I immediately started to overanalyze things. Jacob had said, "How is your back doing?" as if he had known all along that it had bothering me. Shouldn't he have said, "Is your back all right?" or something like that?

Another few moments of silence passed, before I rubbed my temples wearily. "I'm really glad you came, Jake," I told him. "But I think I'm going to go to bed."

Jacob nodded, understanding. "You've had a long day," he agreed. "You should probably get some rest."

We stood and Jacob gently took my wrist, pulling something out of his pocket. I watched as he tied a beautiful hemp bracelet around my wrist, one of exquisite colors of gold and red and blue.

"It means hope," he told me, offering me a smile, and I stared at the bracelet, feeling my warmth return.

"Thanks," I said, touched. "It's…beautiful." And it really was.

Once Jacob had disappeared down the street, I let myself back into the house and locked the door. Charlie had already gone to bed, and so I went over to the chair by the window where he had been sitting. I sat in it myself, knowing I wouldn't get any sleep that night, not after sleeping all day and not after what had I had seen…or rather, _who_ I had seen…earlier that day. Sighing, I let my eyes wander.

There was a newspaper on the small, oak table next to the chair and I picked it up to see what negative headlines I could read today. I saw the headline that announced, "Four Unsolved Murders Plague Chicago" and immediately dropped the paper onto my lap, and shut the curtains of the window next to me.

I picked up the paper again, knowing I probably shouldn't read a story so grim and one that hit so close to home. But it was too difficult to ignore. Like some kind of dirty, forbidden secret, I scanned the story eagerly with a weight in my stomach, chilling myself to the bone.

Four people had been mysteriously murdered in the very city I lived in. Two of them were boys my age, whom I had gone to school with. Another was a middle-aged man, probably someone Charlie knew. And one was a visitor from out of town.

I put the paper down very slowly and very quietly, as if afraid someone would hear me. I got up and crept to my room, turning on the lamp and shutting my curtains swiftly. I sat on my bed and drew my knees to my chest, holding them tightly. I looked around the room, my mind full, and thought of Edward.

_Knock, knock, knock._

I snapped out of my trance and looked around. I was sitting on the sandy beach of Lake Chicago the next evening, completely against my better judgment. The knocking noise had unnerved me, but when it sounded again, I realized it was just some kind of bird. A woodpecker maybe? I hoped it was a bird.

I shouldn't have been sitting on the beach by myself at night. It was a completely stupid thing to do, but I knew I was no longer completely sane.

Charlie thought I was studying with Angela. Earlier that morning he had given me a lecture about not being anywhere alone and especially not at night, due to the recent murders, and if he even had a hunch of where I was right now, he would worry himself sick.

The strange thing was, although I was sitting on an empty beach at night, I didn't feel that afraid. I felt almost…safe. I couldn't explain this to myself but I didn't feel the need to. I pulled my sweater tighter around myself against the cold air and looked at the moon, its bright silhouette reflecting off of the calm water.

I suddenly felt a presence next to me and I tensed slightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that it was Edward. The ghost, the vision, whatever he now was. It was him.

"You shouldn't be here, Bella," he said quietly.

I said nothing. I wondered why I wasn't more surprised to see him.

A few moments passed before he spoke again.

"Especially not with what's been happening."

I knew he meant the murders. And I knew he probably thought I was foolish for sitting where I was. In reply, I shrugged, still staring out across the water.

"May I ask you why you are here at this time of night?" he asked me softly.

I turned to him, momentarily taken back by his bright eyes and just the fact that it was _him_. A lump formed in my throat. Seeing him still made me so emotional.

"May I ask you what you are?" I countered.

Edward turned away and my frustration grew. I turned back to the water, squeezing my eyes shut against the unreasonable tears.

"Why can't you tell me that?" I asked him. "Is it really that bad?"

"I think it is," Edward replied bitterly.

It seemed like he was speaking in riddles. What was the point of him showing up just to torment me? A few more awkward minutes went by before I could find words again.

"So how did you know about the comet?" I asked him suddenly.

He stared at me.

"You said one day you'd tell me." I remembered that day that seemed like forever ago, where he had taken me to his rooftop and we had watched a comet shoot across the sky. I had asked him how he had known it was coming and he had been amused, and had told me to ask him again one day.

"That's something else you don't want to know," he said.

I stared at him in disbelief. "I _do _want to know."

I had believed that was such a simple question, one that brought us back to our past when he had been alive. It had been a special night, one that had strengthened our friendship, and yet it was tied to his mystery? I looked away again and shut my eyes, feeling worse.

"Bella," he said, his voice pained. "Bella, please open your eyes."

I opened them and felt a tear escape. I scrambled to my feet and he was instantly standing in front of me, so fast that for a moment I thought I had imagined it.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

I ignored his outstretched hand and took a step back. "I need answers," I said firmly, although my voice shook. And then I turned to walk away.

As soon as I turned, he was in front of me again, and I recoiled in shock. He had just been behind me, and in one swift second, he was in front of me again.

"Like that!" I said desperately. "What did you just do?"

He took my hands in his and the coolness traveled up my arms and into my veins.

"Bella," he said in a low voice that shook. "I promise I will tell you everything one day if you promise me something."

I stared into his eyes, eyes that were so fascinating, beautiful, and different…yet _intense_.

"What?" I asked him warily.

"Promise you'll give it time. You'll give _me_ time."

I stared at him, not wanting to promise anything, but knowing I could do nothing else.

"I promise," I agreed reluctantly.

"And one more thing."

I stared at him expectantly.

"I want you to know that you are not insane," he said quietly. "You're not seeing things. It's really me and despite everything that happened, I'm really here with you. Promise me that you'll believe that."

"I can't promise that," I said flatly. "Not yet."

Edward sighed and nodded.

I sat back down in the sand, facing the water again, just like I had been when he had found me. He hesitated a moment before sitting down next to me.

He took my hand gently and I didn't pull away.

We sat, hand in hand, watching the moon rise in the sky. I had never felt such a strong feeling of bitter sweetness. And I couldn't help but wonder why Jacob's hand was so warm, while Edward's was so cold.


	14. Chapter 13: The Possible Truth

_A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to update. From now on, I am going to update often. I want to finish all my fanfics. And thank you for the reviews thus far, I really appreciate everything and hearing what everyone thinks!_

_So what do you think? Is it too soon for Bella to find out what Edward is and confront him about it, or is it time for her to know?_

* * *

_Chapter 13: The Possible Truth_

Seasons changed and as the weather grew cooler, I found myself warming up to this new Edward. Once we eliminated the questions of what he was, we got along much better. In fact, when I wasn't with Jacob, I was usually with Edward. And the truth was, I was spending less and less time with Jacob and more and more time with Edward.

I knew it was making Jacob bitter but I couldn't fully blame myself. Jacob had started acting very strangely and he had started distancing himself from me.

Winter came and the air turned as cold as Edward's skin. The days began to blend together and when I wasn't in school, Edward and I would spend time together and do things like we used to. We were best friends again.

It was extremely tricky because Edward could not be seen in daylight. He never let me see him in the daylight. And he couldn't be seen by the townspeople; he was, after all, supposed to be dead. It was a devastating and confusing thought to me still, but one I violently pushed away all of the time.

We spent most of our time together in the evenings. We picked apples in the orchard in the meadow. When the lake froze over and no one was around, he taught me to skate on it. We even found a special tree in the forest to decorate for Christmas.

Eventually, the lake thawed and the snow melted and my new found calmness melted away with it. Things gradually began to fall apart again.

One warm, spring morning, Jacob knocked on the door and asked me if I wanted to go to the lake with him. Thinking we would just be spending some time together and that I would see Edward later that night, I agreed and went along with him. But as we sat in the shade on the empty beach, I could tell something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"I know what's going on, Bella," he said quietly and resentfully.

I turned to him, surprised by this sudden revelation. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know about Edward."

"And what's that?" I asked.

Jacob let out a noisy breath of frustration. "Don't make me say it out loud."

I stared at him, slowly becoming aggravated at the way he was acting. "Well, you're going to have to say it out loud because I have no clue what you're trying to say."

Jacob straightened up and stared straight ahead. "He's a…" He's a something. I couldn't make out the last word he said because he said it so quietly.

"He's a what?" I pressed.

"He's a vampire, Bella!"

My entire body froze and went cold.

"That's ridiculous, Jacob," I muttered. "Vampires don't exist."

Silence prevailed as a soft breeze played across the water and ruffled the leaves of the trees almost affectionately. What Jacob said made no sense. Vampires only existed in horror novels and in deep, dark nightmares. And who knew - maybe even in history. But they didn't exist in my world.

"Tell me your evidence then, Jacob," I said flatly.

"Well, I guess we can start with the fact that he was dead and came back to life," Jacob said, his voice sarcastic. He lowered it slightly, his tone becoming more gentle. "Don't you think that's strange, Bella? He was officially pronounced dead. How else could he come back?"

Tears stung my eyes as I angrily stared ahead. I hated talking about his death. It only brought about a wave of fresh pain and confusion every time it was mentioned.

"His skin is ice cold, isn't it Bella?"

It was true. I had always wondered why his skin was so cold and if it wasn't even normal. I didn't want to admit it, but cold skin did remind me of death.

"Didn't you notice how his appearance has changed? How his eyes aren't the same color and how his skin is so pale?"

"That could be anything, Jake," I whispered weakly, feeling my anger slip away as what Jacob was saying began to make perfect sense.

"It's not just anything, Bella," Jacob said tightly. "And you know it."

"I want to go home."

"Just one last point, Bella. This one is difficult, but it has to be said."

"What is it?" I asked lifelessly.

"Four mysterious murders," Jacob said quietly, staring out across the lake.

"That was months ago, Jacob!"

"But Bella, still. Four of them and they were never explained. Vampires need to eat. They need to kill to live." Jacob turned to me. "If you can even call them living," he added bitterly. "More like the living dead."

I scrambled to my feet. Tears streamed down my face as I walked away from Jacob. I couldn't bear to hear his theories anymore.

"Bella!" he called after me and I could sense that he was getting to his feet and getting ready to follow me.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I didn't want him to think I was furious with him and I didn't want him following me. The truth was that I was angry, but not just at him. I was angry with Edward, too.

I thought back to the conversation we had had on the beach so many months ago...it seemed like forever ago. I had been asking him what he was and he wouldn't tell me.

_"Why can't you tell me that?" I asked him. "Is it really that bad?"_

_"I think it is," Edward replied bitterly._

I stopped in my tracks. Everything added up perfectly. Was it possible Jacob was right? Was it possible that Edward was the living dead and even he was ashamed to admit it? A feeling of piercing dread filled my chest. I knew it wouldn't go away until I asked Edward.

Later that night, I was sitting in bed attempting to read and get my mind off everything that was utterly ridiculous in my life. I couldn't get the fact out of my head that two of my closest friends were acting so strange. One was trying to tell me the other was a _vampire_, of all things. And the other wouldn't tell my anything at all.

There was a knock on the window. Instead of feeling excitement at seeing Edward, I felt that same piercing dread. I knew I had to ask him. I knew I would feel awful until I asked him. I walked over to the window and opened it. Edward climbed through and with a gentle smile, handed me a red rose.

"Thank you," I said, feeling strangled. "It's beautiful." He had given me a red rose when he was alive - when Spot had died, and then again a second time last April, when I had thought he was dead. I supposed it was only fitting for him to give me one now too, when he was "alive" again.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his smile disappearing. He had seen through me instantly. He knew something was wrong.

I turned away from the window and sat on the bed, twirling a long strand of brown hair around my finger. There was no easy way to bring up this topic of conversation. There was no decent way. _Oh, so I hear you're a vampire?_ I never wanted to have this conversation. But I had to.

I placed the rose on the bed between us as he sat next to me. I cleared my throat uncomfortably. This was _so difficult_.

"You know you can tell me anything, Bella," Edward said quietly. He must have sensed something was wrong and that I was having trouble telling him. But then again, he had always been perceptive, even when he had been alive.

"Remember how I promised you that I would give you time?" I asked softly.

He sat up straighter as he stared at me with his strange, beautiful eyes.

"I've given you time," I whispered. My fingers dug into my blankets. I hadn't wanted to corner him, but what else could I do? I didn't want to flat out accuse him of being a vampire. I wanted him to tell me himself.

And that's when there was a flash of light from outside, along with a bang. Edward sprang off the bed so fast that he was practically a blur and looked outside.

He looked back at me, where I sat frozen on the bed. "Werewolves!" he hissed, before disappearing out the window.


End file.
